Turpentine
by I am and I
Summary: Insanity as an art. All he ever asked for was someone he could paint.
1. The Things We Do

_So I finally grew the balls to post this one. It's disturbing in the most fundimental ways... but a vast majority is based on real life incidents, with the irony factor tweaked, of course._

_Lots of language, lots of questionable material... don't read that if you don't like. The actual named pairing won't really reveal until later... so hang around a bit. This is more an expiramental piece than anything else... so Crit is great, if you don't just say it sucks and walk away. Point out flaws. I'll make it better next time around._

_So without further a due:_

Disclaimer: I don't own KH.

EDIT!

_Freshly beta'd and a thousand times better. Yes. There's big differences with this one and I suggest you guys come back and give it a look just for good measure. This is the amazing beta work of Mousewolf, whom I revere and fear (only when I make dumb mistakes for the latter...) and you should all bow down and pay homage... Bow down, I say! haha! Well, Enjoy... again!_

_Read, enjoy, review, repeat!_

* * *

::: The Things We Do... :::

Every night, an idea flits through his head, but he can never quite catch it.

It's light and heat and burning and he can't quite hold onto it long enough to know what it could possibly be.

One night it feels like a bird's wing.

The next, it's a cat's paw.

And the next, a dragonfly.

A snake skin.

A tiger's claws.

A rat.

And every night, he's not quite able to get a real handle on it, his hands aching to work on something he can never quite see. So he goes into his studio and he drinks a bottle of vodka, staring at the paintings he hasn't finished yet, and he paints what he thinks he touched that night.

_The_ painting is growing, a multicolored collage of texture and abstract shapes. He drinks vodka and traces new lines with his fingertips, half-blank, entranced until his woman pulls him away and fucks him to sleep. It's a nightly thing, routine, and he's gotten used to it. He really doesn't care about how irreverent she treats him anymore; doesn't care about the way she always smells like cigarette smoke; doesn't care that she's already been fucking someone else. He just doesn't care because his head is too addled to really wrap around the situation in and of itself.

She's blond and she's beautiful in the most brutal way, a wasp dressed in lion-skins. He wants to bludgeon her to death with the big Maglite under the bed and put her in the bathtub sometimes. Sometimes he thinks he'll do it and then dismember her and bury her in fifty different places across the city, but it's nothing but a thought he randomly entertains.

He used to paint her before all this.

He reaches under the bed and grips the textured metal as she grinds herself down into him. He pants, and she cries out, digging her nails into his skin. He grips that metal shaft, knows that he's holding it like a club with the flared end forward and he smiles.

"Can I kill you?" he asks.

"Not yet!" she pants, "I still haven't…"

He puts the flashlight down and lets her go. She's just as stoned and drunk as he is.

Just like any other time, she has her orgasm and they both fall asleep soon thereafter. No words exchanged; no need. The room smells like sex. Bad sex.

And god is it awful.

He's a painter. She's a whore. Whether she likes it or not, that's what she is.

"Axel?"

Well, at least he thought that was how it would happen.

"What, Larxene…"

"Do we have to go to that opening tomorrow? I just want to stay home and get laid."

A whore who wants to get laid, apparently. He's not so enthusiastic about her plans.

"Luxord needs me to be there. I have to be at the show because people want to see my work _and_ me. As much as you feed that thing, how can it still be hungry? Maybe you should buy yourself some toys for it or something," he mumbles.

"Fuck you."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

For some reason, they always say that to each other in rapid succession. He's not really sure why they torture themselves like this, but he's still not really sure he could live without her, with her poison in his blood like this. They've been together for so long, and when he tries to think of life without her, he cries. The place he thinks of all that most often is not here in this sweaty, steamy bed. He always ponders that kind of thing in the shower so that he can dismiss the redness of his cheeks as nothing but the water's heat, and the tears that escape are nothing but water from the shower.

God, but he's such a basket case.

He hasn't even sold a painting since two years ago, and that for only a measly $50,000. A series of twelve paintings to be displayed in a straight line. Only $50,000, and it had vanished terribly fast.

When they have the money for it, Larxene likes to buy Crown Royal.

It's her favorite.

When they have money, Axel likes to get Jägermeister. It's his favorite… but Larxene hates it, so he has to hide it lest she should pour it out or something stupid like that.

He falls asleep wondering why the hell he does these things to himself.

And everything, _everything_ smells like turpentine, razor edges that blur into sleep.

_Dreams are premonitions of a clouded future, and the future's eye sees… you. The blond with the clear, ocean water eyes… the boy who holds so very still as my oils run smooth over the canvas. I'll find you, I tell you, and you smile._

"I'm waiting. Come and find me."


	2. Déjà vu

_Yay... this chapter is a ton longer than I originally intended... but hopefully it'll be good. I kind of brought it back around. Larxene really does care for him, but she's... err... you know. They're dysfunctional. As all living hell._

_It'll get even more messed up later._

_Trust me._

EDIT!

_Freshly beta'd! Yes. Go thank Mousewolf... bow down and worship!_

* * *

::: Déjà vu :::

There's always a lack of stuff to do this early in the morning, and as creative as he could be, Axel was less than thrilled to have to come up with something to occupy his time. Larxene was snoring… but it was kind of sexy, distinctly feminine.

If he were truly cruel, he could have kicked her off the bed and made her talk to him. Naturally, those kinds of conversations didn't really go so well, so he rethought the situation. He surveyed the room. Just books he'd already read through a couple of times, a guitar he didn't really know how to play, and old porno magazines he hadn't needed since lord knew how long ago. The dog was sleeping at the foot of his bed, silent as ever. That last, in and of itself, was pleasing.

Axel's dog was like a shark.

About two months back, a man had broken into their house and tried to make off with a couple handles of their good liquor and a pair of finished paintings that he was probably going to sell somewhere… What exactly does a man do with stolen paintings, and how the hell does he sell them? It seemed a rather foolish decision to the redhead.

Well, anyway, the dog was trained to be completely silent and wait at the door when someone unfamiliar came in. As soon as the dog knew what was going on, all eighty pounds of a growling, seriously angry Doberman Pinscher came crashing down on said burglar.

The guy's hands had been mangled. _Mangled_. And the best part? The guy claimed he had never even known there was a dog there until it was on top of him.

The redhead rudely pushed his supposed lover off of him and stepped over the animal. It sat up and gazed at him lovingly.

"Good morning Leto," Axel said softly.

Leto was up to his feet instantly and followed his master into the bathroom. Axel opened up the glass door to the shower, stripped what little clothing he had left off of him and jumped in, closely followed by Leto. The dobe sat down obediently as Axel turned on the water, thoroughly wetting his hair and letting that feeling of sweat-stickiness dissolve away. He finished with his initial round, then pulled the shower-head down and got Leto wet too.

"Alright… hair, hair, lovely hair," he mumbled.

He had one soap that took care of everything: it was this hippie soap you get at head shops when you're buying some clove cigarettes and incense. It was peppermint scented like no one's business, and the smell alone was strong enough to wake Larxene in the morning. He poured it into his hand, and then ground the palms of his hands into his scalp, working the stuff in and pulling some of the lather down across his chest. He worked it downward over his skin. It's just his routine.

Leto watched silently. He would get the hippie soap too.

Multi-purpose made Axel's world go 'round.

He rinsed out his hair, running a hand through it just to untangle some of the kinks. It was hard and coarse from years without conditioner, tough and wiry from abuses without number. It didn't really ever change; it just kind of stuck up everywhere in a porcupine's back of anarchy, much to the amusement of many a small child. Axel loved that. Little kids in that stage where they just had to touch _everything_ were drawn to his fiery-red hair like a magnet, the upside-down teardrops, dark and bruise-colored beneath his striking jade eyes also providing a distraction. It was always the next thing to be explored, maybe punctuated by a closer inspection of the half-inch gauged holes in his earlobes. They seemed especially fond of the captive-ball rings that he used to keep the larger jewelry in with.

He quite liked kids, even if they were a bit annoying sometimes. Larxene just plain hated them.

He popped the rim easily out of his stretched piercing, ran a finger along the track and gave it a perfunctory sniff. Nothing important. It smelled sort of like stainless steel and salt, which was good. Ear stink was nothing pleasant, nor was it anything that a little daily cleaning couldn't prevent. He ran water through them, used some of the soap to lightly scrub the soft flesh of the inner track of the hole. He popped the rim back in and completed the same routine with the other ear.

"Leto, come."

The dobe stood up and padded over to his master, standing silently at Axel's side. The redhead turned the water off and picked up the bottle of soap, squeezed out a generous line along the dog's spine. Setting the bottle aside, he knelt and started massaging the soap into the dog's short, stiff coat.

He worked fast. It was pretty much time to take care of other things now. He didn't have time to waste. The paintings beckoned, as ever - but today… today was the day of the Opening.

"Dammit."

Leto gazed up with infallible dark eyes.

"I know, boy. I'm sorry," Axel mumbled, drawing the showerhead down and turning on the water. He rinsed the dog off and opened the door of the shower. Water turned off, both occupants shook off and stepped out one after the other, Leto following master.

He dried off with a towel that had probably been used three or four times before and then tossed it on the floor. Larxene would take care of it later.

"Loo?" he called out the open door, "Loo, you up?"

"Axel, shut the fuck up. You I hate that nickname."

"Whatever. Did you make coffee?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Thanks babe."

He pulled Leto's towel off the rack over the toilet and ruffled the dog's coat until it was mostly dry. He didn't feel like using the blow-dryer today. Larxene, since she had gone back to bed, would probably shit herself.

He tossed the towel into a corner and playfully slapped the dog's butt. Leto barked loudly and tore out the door, sliding on the hardwood floor, skidding to a stop and turning to jump into that position that says, 'Play with me!' Axel laughed.

"Axel! Stop messing with the dog! It's too early."

"I'm going to go take him for a walk if you don't mind," the redhead replied.

"Not like that, I hope," she grumbled, following him across the room with her vivid electric eyes.

"Well, I don't think I could stand around naked in front of anyone but you."

"You're skinny again," she sighed. She sounded worried.

"Is it bad?"

"Yeah."

"Like how bad?"

"You can't tell? I mean, I'd think you'd be the first one to notice…"

He stopped digging through the wardrobe and ran his hands down his sides, inspected his hips with a pensive look on his face. His ribs were a little more prominent, he had to admit, and his hips seemed a little more gaunt… he knew one major factor though. He looked down to his chest, running his fingers along the raised arches of his collar bones…

"Shit."

"Yeah…"

"So you still think I'm over it?"

"Not any more. But maybe you're just forgetting things again," she said softly, materializing behind him, twining her arms around his hips. "You're always drunk and painting when I come home from work. You must be just forgetting."

"You're such a saint," he says simply.

"Why?"

"You don't have to put up with my shit, but you do."

She had a sudden twinge of guilt, and he could feel it.

"Yeah… um, let's get you dressed. It's getting cold out, so make sure you wear your thermals."

"Love ya, babe. Thanks for the coffee."

"Mhmm."

She vanished and the creak of the bedsprings told him she had probably gone back to sleep. She had the day off from her shitty job as a welder at some dry dock in the middle of nowhere which really made no sense. It was the middle of fall, and the weather was brutally beautiful, but the job was miserable as always because of all the equipment and the tedious nature of welding important pieces into place. They had to double check everything twice, three times even, just to make sure there are no weak points in the weld. If there are, they have to go back and do everything all over again. Larxene was, understandably, a perfectionist.

Axel pulled on his thermal underwear and over that, tight fitting black jeans. He had ripped the seams and custom tailored them to fit him perfect. An old band t-shirt and a battered zip up front sweater were next. He rolled up the sleeves of the sweater but left the black sleeves of the thermals pulled down, thumbs pulled through holes in the sleeves specifically for that. He slipped on his old checkered Vans easily, left his hair down. There was no point in messing with it while it was still mostly wet. To keep his head from getting cold, he pulled on an old beanie.

"Leto!"

The dog rounded the corner, leash in his mouth.

"Good dog. Good boy," Axel affirmed, taking the leash and collar and buckling it around the dog's neck. There was the hint of excitement in his big dark eyes, but there was nothing else that would suggest it.

He opened the door and the big dog followed him silently out into the hall. He took the elevator down, said good morning to the landlord who was out in the courtyard getting her little garden ready for winter's cold. She smiled and waved. She thinks that Axel is out of his fucking mind, but he doesn't really care unless she actually tells him that to his face.

The walk to the dog park isn't that far at all. Their routine is mostly ordinary, primarily uninterrupted. Leto strode beautifully at Axel's side; it was that long-legged, proud gait you only see in a pedigree animal. He had gotten lucky, knowing a breeder who didn't mind gifting him with a show-quality pup. In fact, Axel had let them show the dog a few times, and he'd done rather well.

He had watched with a little smile.

As soon as they're in the park, Axel turns the big dog loose, and he trots through the grass happily, interacting with the other dogs without any problem. Some of the other owners look a little nervous, but they calm after a while. Axel takes a seat on a bench next to another young man whose face was obscured by a knit cap with earflaps and a thick scarf, doubled up around his face even, burying him up to his eyes almost. He was scrawling something or other in a notebook.

"Morning," he said distractedly.

"Yeah… good morning."

That voice was so familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He found his eyes running up and down the page, devouring line after line of something that was probably a private musing, but he couldn't really help himself. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but Axel was a firm believer that satisfaction brought it back.

"You're reading over my shoulder? That's rude," the other laughed, lifting his eyes from the page. They were bright blue like an ocean tide, unmercifully sane and sharp.

"I, uh…"

"Don't worry. It isn't like it's personal or anything."

He placed the notebook between them and yanks the scarf down off of his face and gave a little shudder.

"Not from here, huh?"

"I've been here a few months, but it's still taking time to get used to the cold up here," the other replied, "My dog's freaking out too. She almost wouldn't come out the door this morning."

Axel laughed. "Well, you guys'll get used to it pretty quick. It's nice during the winter sometimes. Doesn't quite get as cold in the city, so I think."

This guy is so familiar. Axel still can't pin it down, but he can't put down the feeling either.

"It's a good thing it's a little more dry climate-wise here though. My guitars are really sensitive to humidity. I used to spaz out every time I had to take my babies outside in 'Flahrida'." He laughed cutely.

"Florida, huh? I thought you had a funny accent," Axel observed, with a little snort of amusement.

"Closer you live to Miami, the more of a Cuban spice you get. It really doesn't matter who you happen to be, where you're from, or who you hang out with. It happens."

"Yeah… I don't know what we sound like up here…"

"Atlanta? Well… here in Atlanta you just all sound like country folk… not s'much as outside the city, but it's enough." He smiled slyly.

"Real smooth, buddy," Axel laughed, "You're not all that into tact are you?"

"We're not nice in Florida. Down there, I'd sooner punch a stranger than actually talk to them. People in northern states are so much friendlier. I like it."

"You think so?"

"Maybe not New York. I've been there… people are kind of…"

"Tough?"

"Yeah. Too cynical, maybe."

Axel nodded knowingly. "Aren't we all?"

"You're nice enough. I kind of like you already."

He was so open - a breath of fresh air in a stale room.

"Anyway, I think it's about time I got going… I know this café with really good coffee and cheesecake…" he said, packing his notebook away into the front pocket of a gig bag. It was the first time Axel had noticed the guy had an acoustic guitar with him. "I love the place. They don't mind dogs either."

"Neat," Axel replied. It was a knee jerk reaction, but when the guy looked him in the eye hopefully, he realized this wasn't just off-hand information. Was this an actual invite to lunch or something?

"Ah… you want to come? I'll pick up the tab…"

"Oh! God, I'm sorry. I'm so used to people just telling me things… um, sure. I'd love to come… and you don't have to pay for me."

"Nah, my treat. Honestly!" he laughed, "Zipporah! Come girl!"

Axel watched as a beautiful blue-gray borzoi trotted gracefully up to the man. He knelt and hooked on a leash, lavishing some love on the beautiful dog.

"Leto," Axel called nonchalantly.

Leto bolted forward, trotting to a stop at Axel's feet, looking up just as loyally as ever. Zipporah craned her neck to examine the other dog, and Leto did the same as Axel hitched the dobe's leash.

"Hmm… didn't have the heart to clip him, huh?" the young man asked.

"Oh, that… well, he's good breeding material. My friend who gave him to me still wanted to be capable so that they could breed him."

"That's pretty cool… Anyway, I totally forgot," he rose and extended a rough, callused hand. "My name's Demyx."

Axel, took the other's hand, winced. The guy had a damn strong grip.

"Axel."

"Oh, sorry… I can't really help it. Guitar hands," Demyx said sheepishly.

"Hey, don't sweat it," Axel replied. "I've gotten used to it."

He seemed to perk a little after that. A lie it was, but they tended to smooth some things over.

"So, shall we?"

"Sure."

--- ---

"Hey, we should keep in touch. Got a lot in common…" Demyx said softly. The smile on his face was unreadable.

"Uh, sure. I mean, we really get along great," Axel agreed, "Kind of weird."

"I know!" the blond laughed, scratching his head. Axel still couldn't decide if the kid had a mullet or a mohawk. "Here… let me… yeah."

He pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, scrawled his number in big figures next to his name and ripped the piece off. He pressed it into Axel's hand.

"Give me a call sometime. I'm always bored, 'cause I really don't know all that many people. I'm going to this art show opening tonight with my cousin's band… Tradewind Gallery or something… I don't remember. They're going to be playing an acoustic set. And I guess there's going to be a visit from the hot-shot artist or whatever. He sounds like he's probably a pretty cool guy. Saw some of his work. I was practically drooling in like three seconds."

"Really?" Axel drawled, in an effort not to be overly obvious. The guy was completely oblivious.

"Yeah… I wish I had the cash. I would totally get one of those in a heart-beat," Demyx pressed his hand over his chest, "But alas! I am a starving artist!"

"Well, thanks for the compliment. Seriously, I'm flattered," Axel laughed, pulling a business card out of his wallet. "That's the number for my apartment, studio… whatever you want to call it. You're welcome to drop by any time you like."

Demyx stared at the printed card dumbly, eyes wide.

"You're kidding me…"

"I'll see you at the show tonight. Hopefully I'll make a couple hundred tonight… business has been pretty slow. Thanks for taking me. I'll have to come back here sometime."

He picked up the little box with a slice of chocolate cheesecake he'd purchased for Larxene. They'd spent a hell of a lot of time talking, and he figured it would be kind of an apology of sorts for staying out from about eight in the morning to one in the afternoon.

"Yeah… see you there," Demyx called with a little wave.

--- ---

Somewhere during the trip home, it struck him. Demyx was in his dreams. Was in his dreams. He couldn't wait for the show.

He could never have guessed that it would go as badly as it did.


	3. The Masks We Wear

_Hmm... Cheating goes on in the chapter... And Dem seems to want to keep Axel from getting himself into trouble but... well... who knows._

_I'm updating this as it comes. And right now it's coming pretty fast. I'm feeling nice and confident because I'm happy and inspired at the moment. I sold a piece in the gallery today. YAY!_

EDIT!

_You already know! Go give Mousewolf your love and appreciation:)_

* * *

::: The Masks We Wear :::

The paintings sold well, and something was bothering Axel. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, once again and as ever. He couldn't see past the heavy black velvet curtain that withheld the future from his eyes, blocking the limelight and the maddening crowds – knowing that they were there made it all the worse.

Demyx was there, seemingly enjoying egging the band boys on, getting them to play more raucous, excitable songs by the minute. Axel walked up and stood behind the blond companionably. He was only a few inches taller, but it was enough to make him seem more authoritative to the blond, who turned with a silly looking guilty grin on his face.

"Oh, uh – I can make them tone it down again, if you like," he said sheepishly.

"No," Axel replied distractedly, "I rather like it…"

"What's up?"

"I really don't know."

"Hey… um… did you sell any?"

"A few…" he said, a satisfied smile curling his thin lips, "Good take tonight. I'll be able to get some Jäger."

"And that's all you can say for it?"

"Yeah, pretty much. It's kind of like the 'Job well done' signaling phrase. You'll definitely get it once you hang out with me more," he explained. "But wait, how old are you, kid?"

"Twenty-two," Demyx replied instantly, "But I don't drink all that much… I don't really have the stomach for it…"

"We can fix that. You're probably drinking cheap vodka and that's why you're so messed up."

Demyx snorted, "Nah… I'm just a lightweight… Nothing more, nothing less."

"Still can be fixed."

"Maybe… I kind of like you enough for that," the blond said softly, turning to smile over his shoulder. He had that completely unreadable smile once again. "But hey… where's your woman?"

Axel hadn't thought about that… and so the curtain rose, the limelight glared, and the audience bayed for his blood.

"And where the hell's Luxord…" he hissed darkly. Oh he'd had a feeling all along – it was in script, but the characters weren't meant to know until now.

Demyx's eyes suddenly reflected a sort of shocked confusion, aquamarine bright and splintering.

"That - that _whore_ is banging my art dealer… god help me… I'll kill her…I'll fucking kill her…"

He turned and went directly to the back rooms of the gallery, Demyx following close at his heels, speaking soothing things that barely registered. Axel had crossed that threshold and he slammed the door. Several people tailed momentarily, but they fell back when he came to the studio door. All of them, except Demyx.

"Axel… look, it's probably just a coincidence, really… I mean, how could you know right off the bat? I've only known you for a little while, but seriously… you need to trust me."

They came to the door and Axel stopped stock still, a statue made carved from flammable wood. Quite suddenly, Demyx was clutching him around the hips, holding him back.

"Don't you dare go through that fucking door…" he whispered hoarsely. "You already know what's happening, don't you?"

"What?"

"If you're right, it'll only hurt worse. Don't do it."

"This isn't any of your business. What makes you think you have the right to-"

At the sounds of scuffling inside the studio, Axel wrenched the blond off of him and threw the door open. Luxord yelped and looked up like a rabbit in the headlights of a barreling SUV and Larxene yanked her dress down, half-snarling her anger and disdain. Of all the bleeding horrors he could have faced; this, this was the final straw.

Axel broke the blond's grip again, and strode forward, walked directly up to his art dealer who was still buckling up his pants. He stood there, looking the man straight in the eye.

"I want my money. You'll give me one hundred percent of the earnings tonight, and you can take the whore home with you. She'll be payment enough, right Loo?"

"Wait… Axel! This isn't what you think! Not at all! If you had been more considerate of my needs, it might have never happened anyway!" she stammered, then sneered.

"Axel…" Luxord choked apologetically.

"I said I wanted to kill you, Loo, but you know what?" he ignored him, looking at the blonde woman.

There was an awkward pause.

"What…?" she finally asked.

"May you live for-fucking-ever. Live in your agony. Wallow, you filthy sow, in the final throes of your folly," he hissed, suddenly turning to face her, kneeling heavily to look her in the eye and smiling. "May you never forget what you did here, sweetheart."

He kissed her on the lips while she was still shocked by the weight of his statement. It was tender, sweet even, but enough to rouse her. She slapped him hard across the cheek, but hadn't been expecting to get it back in the form of a heavy back-hand.

She cried out and Axel lurched to his feet. It had felt amazing to give her what she deserved. His mouth was a wide, mad smirk and his eyes danced like the flames of hell as he turned back to Luxord, who stumbled back a pace.

"If I don't get my cash, I'm going to find you. Do I have to finish that?"

"No, sir," The other mumbled shamefully, looking at his feet.

"You and I, Loo… we're fucking finished. I'm going home," he laughed, stumbled to the door. Waning now, he felt like a stringless puppet. "As long as this all stays in the dark… You'll be fine. I won't say anything just as long as my demands are kept."

Demyx stood in the hallway, head bowed.

He ignored the blond, floated down the hall. Every inch of him was numb… in fact he felt rather strange, like the way he always felt before he passed out when he was drunk.

"Shit," he managed to mumble before the whole word spun and the crowd cheered, buzzing in his ears.

Fade to black.

--- ---

Coming to, Axel heard the sound of someone sobbing faintly.

He sat up, massaging his temples, looked around for the source of the sound. It was somewhat unfamiliar and a little strange. What the hell had happened tonight?

"Loo? That you-" the memories flooded back to him all at once. If he could have killed himself right then and there, he probably would have. "Nonono… this isn't - _happening_," he snarled, softly.

Someone came tearing out of the bathroom. Bloodshot ocean blue eyes met similarly afflicted jade.

Demyx sniffled and crawled onto the bed.

"Leto bit me when I came in," he started, "I probably deserved it… but it hurts."

He sobbed hard again, bandaged hand resting limply above his head. He was half curled up on his side.

"Where's Larxene?" Axel asked weakly. He honestly felt like he was going to faint again.

"She… brought me here and got her stuff… she went away," Demyx husked, shoulders still shaking lightly. He'd probably been more scared by the bite than in real pain because there was relatively little blood on his gauze bandage. Leto sat perfectly still by the door. He didn't look too happy.

"Let me see…" Axel said softly, picking up the wounded appendage. Demyx moaned pathetically, curling up tighter, but he didn't recoil.

"Leto, come!"

Demyx jumped, literally crawled up into Axel's lap.

"Don't be afraid of him," the redhead said calmly, despite the flow of tears slipping down his pale cheeks. The dog trotted up to the bed. Demyx took a deep breath, visibly relaxing when Axel laid a hand on his shoulder.

Demyx put out his uninjured hand and stroked the dobe's head and neck. Leto laid his head on the edge of the bed happily, accepting the new face now that both his owner and the newcomer were at ease. He almost looked as if he wanted to crawl up on the bed with them though, because animals sense these sorts of things.

Axel rose wordlessly. Someone had undressed him down to his jeans. He limped across to the kitchen, opened a cabinet and pulled out a big bottle of vodka. He hesitated, pulled out a second. He made his way to the bed where Demyx now lay on his side, stroking Leto. Both seemed calmed by the simple action, and Axel had to admit he was glad of it.

He sat down and dropped the bottle against Demyx's hip.

"It'll make the pain go away," he explained, his voice a little shakier now that he was trying to hold back the emotions surging in him. There was a thin, high-pitched screaming in the back of his head, white noise praying for a voice.

Demyx sat up and held the bottle hesitantly.

"This is a lot…"

Axel cracked the top off his and knocked back a prodigious amount with relatively little effort. Demyx sighed and tried to emulate, only managed to choke himself.

"Take it easy, killer." Axel said softly, laughing a little. It really was kind of funny.

"Yeah… y-you're going to have to teach me some stuff…"

--- ---

Axel smiled. This kid was frigging hilarious.

"Y' saved m' life, y'know…" he slurred.

"I haff no f'ken idear wh' ya jes said," Demyx replied. He was grinning like a complete loon, but then again, so was Axel.

They both passed out soon thereafter.

--- ---

There were mornings when Axel would wake and he regretted being alive. This was one of them.

He didn't have long to bemoan his existence though, because there was a terrible sound coming from the bathroom and Leto began barking in distress. He was a quiet dog, so this had to be pretty bad.

Axel lurched to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom where someone unfamiliar was hunched over the toilet, retching his guts out. He finally stopped, sagging pathetically onto the porcelain, racked with painful sobs.

"Are you okay?" Axel croaked, shoving a washcloth over his mouth.

Whoever it was sobbed harder, shielding his face with a hand as he looked over his shoulder. The name registered. Demyx had stayed the night with him… and Loo was gone… Now he remembered it all, but now it wasn't as bad as it would have been if there weren't someone else in dire straits in the same room. He came and sat on the tile next to his companion, laying a warm hand on the kid's back. His head was pounding, but he ignored it as best he could.

"I… I'm sorry," Demyx choked.

"Don't be. I was the one who did this to you."

"I fucking hate it…"

"Hmm?"

Axel was confused; the sudden shift in demeanor was completely out of character for the kid.

"I fucking hate puking… I _hate it_," he sobbed pathetically. He was about to say more, but a dry heave rocked his surprisingly fragile frame. Axel leaned in and ran his hand up to the back of the kid's neck, gripping firmly.

"Hey. Take it easy. Just let it happen."

Demyx's only response was to go limp, slamming his head against the seat. He wasn't yet passed out, but he definitely wasn't doing well either. His breathing was ragged and shallow. Axel sighed softly, taking a firm grip in the other's hair. This was answered with an equally ragged sob.

"Axel…" he said shakily.

"No. Don't talk. I can't have you passing out on me."

"I need to… ask you something…"

Axel sighed heavily, "What?"

"C-can I… stay with you here?"

Bemused, Axel paused, then finally replied, "Why?"

He'd meant more like "Why would you want to?" but it probably got taken more like "Why do you need to?" because that was how Demyx replied.

"I-I got kicked out of my place. I guess my band was too loud. I've been staying with one of my band members, but he's getting married, and I gotta pack it in and get the hell outta there…"

"Oh…"

"I… c-can't find anyone who will keep me… So I just try to grin and bear it and be happy but I can't _fucking_ do it any more… I'm flat broke, and I'm so scared…"

"Hey," Axel soothed, "It's okay… just take it easy."

"I think I'm losing it - I'm- I - my mind is bending the wrong fucking way."

"Demyx…"

He seemed to calm a little, the sparks of utter madness, the shards of sapphire in sea-green dimming from his eyes.

"I love when you say my name. It sounds like you really mean it."

Axel was shocked with the utter intimacy implied by the statement. Demyx took a deep breath and tentatively tensed his stomach. Nothing happened.

"I-I think… I think I'll be okay…"

"Take a shower, kid," Axel said softly, "You'll feel better. I've got a toothbrush for you too…"

"Thanks…"

"And you can stay with me… but only on one condition."

He paused, ocean eyes filled with a little apprehension, "Yeah?"

"You have to let me paint you."


	4. Nightmare

_That's right kids. Beta'd by Mousewolf. This is one of the ones that's most important to me, and one of the pieces that received the most benefit from the beta... enjoy, guys._

* * *

::: Nightmare :::

_He smiled as Axel painted him…bright light dances on the water…delighted laugh echoes for a second_

_And the scene shifts and now he's smiling up at Axel from the redhead's lap_

_He's smiling but OH GOD there's so much blood from the gash on his forehead, the blood is coming out of his mouth river down his ashen chin and cheeks. His eyes are bright and empty as the sky oh god there's so much blood…_

Victim is 22 year old Caucasian male breathing is erratic and shallow

_His eyes… he's going into shock, and Axel can't do a fucking thing to stop it._

_The body in his arms is crushed._

Severe damage to the spinal cord almost total destruction of the right tibia and thighbone see if you can patch that lung while I hold this

_(so much meat and chemicals)_

_The car is pulled off to the side and the man who was driving is wrapped around the steering wheel, sobbing like a little girl.__ The ambulance has been called._

_Demyx lifts a hand weakly, presses it to Axel's cheek._

"_I love you, babe," he says softly, all the color gone from his face. His eyes glimmer, now looking obscenely bright._

We're losing him people code red flatline where the hell is that cart

_The body in Axel's arms goes completely limp. Demyx's lovely blond head lulls lifelessly to Axel's chest and the hand falls away._

"_No, Dem! You have to hang on… come on, Dem!" he cries, "Wake up, Dem! Demyx! Demyx don't leave me here…"_

_But it's too late._

_No breath._

_No pulse._

_Nothing._

_Demyx is dead._

Time of death at oh-nine-hundred hours and forty-three minutes

--- ---

Just like every other morning after he's had this dream, Axel wakes, bathed in sweat, panting and tracing the tears down his cheeks with shaking fingers. He gets up to make sure it's only a dream, and just like every other morning, he pads silently into the living room where Demyx is curled up against a pillow like a small child. And just like he does every morning, Axel pulls the discarded blanket up around the blond's shoulders and places the tenderest kiss on his forehead while the boy is still asleep.

He's never had the guts to do it when Demyx was conscious.

"'S snowin' 'n' I dun wanna go to school, mum…" he mumbles in his sleep.

"You don't have to," Axel replies, and Demyx gives a little relieved sigh, a smile curling his mouth cutely.

It's been two weeks, and for the past week, Axel has had the same week. Two new paintings gaze at him: one, finished, of Demyx in his thick wool scarf, pulled from a photo. His breath is clouded around his face, and his eyes smile.

_(light on water so much meat and chemicals)_

The second is almost done now: Demyx lying on the couch, every inch of his sleek swimmer's body exposed, full sunlight lighting up each angle and casting deep shadows. He seems pensive in this one. Axel smiles and picks up his camera. He turns off the flash and quietly pulls down the blanket, tucking it around the boy's hips. He snaps the photo and returns everything to the way it used to be.

He turns his camera and makes his way to the shower silently.

It's his little secret.


	5. Watercolored Roses

_So I'm trying for a more innocent... and maybe childish Demyx. He's totally a saint here. A little scatterbrained, but aren't we all. Here he learns not to take pills that random people give him. _

_Thank you, all my beloved reviewers... and the people who watch this... you all make my world go 'round. Greater mention will be made in the next chapter update. Tonight I have to pick up an award for a gallery sale and get my cut. Woohoo!_

EDIT!

_Yep! Beta'd and done a damn good job! It'd be worth your time to go thank my wonderful beta, Mousewolf. Yep. I'm not going to stop saying this. XD_

* * *

::: Watercolored Roses :::

So winter came in her full white gown, and for once in many, many years Atlanta saw snow.

Their days were full of the scent of acrylics and sound of guitars being tweaked and tuned and re-varnished - just about anything except actually being played. Axel didn't mind at all. He took pictures and he painted them, and now after another two weeks of living with the blond, he had twelve paintings finished and two in various stages of progression.

Now, he worked on his favourite, a candid shot he'd taken of the blond pulling off his socks after a long day. He looked tired, covered in tiny snow flakes, the harsh fluorescent light from the hall bathed him in a white halo. He painted it with his own flair. He wanted a more heavy tone and he painted it light on a dark ground, but it still made him laugh at the ease of which the pieces came now.

Demyx materialized behind him.

"It's so beautiful… who else d'you want to paint, though? You can't just keep playing with me, you know. One subject gets boring, it has to."

_You're my default setting,_ he thought but didn't say. _I just hadn't found the right template yet._

"Ever listen to Jewel?" he said but didn't think.

"Huh?"

"Just asking," Axel muttered, adding the finishing touches to the highlights of hair with a small, delicate brush. _Gold with a touch of the silver, expensive but worth it. Yellow ochre with white for the base…will the background need more blue to it, or can I just leave it in his eyes?_

"Yeah, why?"

"Go listen to the song 'Painters', and you'll know why." He'd been giving up subtle hints for a few weeks now and this was as blatant as it got, but it seemed Demyx could be thicker than an adobe brick sometimes.

"…alright," he mumbled, slinking off. To mess with his little pink ipod, no doubt.

His surprised squawk startled Axel, and the redhead tossed his paintbrush into the cup of water on the drawing table, clattering his palette down next.

"Aaaaaxelllll!" Demyx cried, "The dogs are humping again!"

Axel broke into loud laughter and ran to break it up.

--- ---

Demyx strummed his beloved instrument softly, humming a little tune to himself. Axel listened. He'd painted a few of this face. When he was concentrating, his lip pouted out like an angry child's would, and his brow furrowed into a pinch, his nose wrinkled comically. He looked either really sulky or really angry. Axel still couldn't decide.

"Don't turn away now, pretty girl," the blond whispered. He was talking to the guitar, which was the best part of all this.

"Dem…"

"Hmm?" he was still preoccupied.

"Would you mind… if…"

He paused painfully.

"I'm listening."

"Would you mind if… ah, it's nothing. Nevermind."

"Got a request, love?"

Gods, he just hated how his heart fluttered and his mind jolted every time the blond called him that. It was nothing but a simple term of endearment… but it was nothing but a bad habit in this case. He could deal with it. He could, dammit.

"'Land-locked Blues'," Axel replied quietly.

Demyx pulled the capo off of the headstock of his guitar, affixed it carefully to the fourth fret, strummed the strings a few times to see if the strings were true, adjusted, and strummed again. He smiled and played a barely audible C switched to G, then back to C.

And he sang.

--- ---

The door clicked quietly shut, and Axel could hear the familiar sound of Demyx kicking off his big, clumpy Docs. Something was a little odd though. He was giggling like a yaoi fangirl and couldn't quite get the boots off.

"Dem?"

"Aaaa-xelllll!"

Well, that always meant he was in need of help. He had a particularly annoying tone of voice whenever he called like that. Axel put his palette aside, dropped the big chisel brush he'd been using into the cup of water on the drawing table.

Leto trotted back into the studio and curled up next to Zipporah on their cushion. That was odd enough: the big dobe seemed to be tied to Demyx sometimes.

"Welcome home, kid," Axel called, rounding the corner. He didn't expect at all what he saw waiting for him. Demyx had shed his scarf, coat, sweater, shirt and belt. All were lying in a pile next to him and he was yanking at his boots, laughing his ass off.

"I can't _do_ it!" he giggled, tossing his head back and slamming it into the wall with a meek "Ouuch…."

"Demyx? What the fuck?" Axel dropped to his haunches beside the younger man.

"Huh? Ohhhh… hey, baby!" he yipped, struggling into a similar position, shoulder thudding against the wall. "I'm _sooo_ fucking horny…"

"Uh…" -_Oh crap please let me be strong-_ "Yeah, right, so what happened?"

"Marko took me to the club and we played a set and then went in the techno room and this chick gave me a few pills and now I feel so good but I didn't want to fuck her 'cause she totally started giving me the eye, and I don't _swing_ that way so I thought you wouldn't mind…" He took a deep breath, and started laughing again.

"Demyx," The other grabbed the boy's shoulder, hauling him into a mostly upright sitting position and effectively attracting the glassy blue-green gaze. "What did she give you? What did she call it? Do you remember?"

Demyx reached up and pulled Axel's hand away, seemed to think about it.

"E," he replied, after a minute or two.

"Jesus," Axel grunted, leaning down to pull off Demyx's boots. This was achieved rather quickly, but when he sat back up to look the blond in the face, he was suddenly being thrown roughly to the floor.

Demyx's back was arched lightly, his lips smooth and warm. The redhead melted, but the feeling quickly dissipated as the younger man started clawing at his belt. He gathered his knees – and his all his willpower - between them, pushed Demyx away. "No, I'm not letting you do anything you'll regret."

"But I want you so bad… _I want you_…" he whispered hoarsely, and Axel swallowed at the look in his eyes.

"Demyx, let me up." _Christ, please…_

"Axel…" There was an attempt made as nuzzling his neck, and he shuddered, reaching for the right emotion, the _right _one for the situation.

"_Now_, Demyx. I'm not fucking letting you do this while you're stoned out of your fucking head!" He snarled finally, finding it.

"Axellll!" The blond moaned pitifully, leaning back against the wall again, "You _don't_ love me!"

"I do! For fuck's sake, don't you get it?" Axel cried, sitting up again, "I do! That's why I won't let you, got it?"

"No!" the blond wailed, turning away to curl up in the corner shivering softly.

"You're coming down now, Dem. You're gonna to want to do some crazy things, but I'm here now, okay?" Axel said softly, placing a hand back on the blond's shivering shoulder. A hand strayed upward and wrapped around Axel's bony fingers instantly.

"Y-yeah, you are…" The tone was grateful, almost awed, and it felt like a kick in the gut.

"Let's get you to the bed, kid. You need to sleep." There was no quaver to his voice.

"I don't want to…"

"I know, but I just want you to take it easy, alright? Did you take anything else?"

"I had some beer… and uh, a little rum."

"'Kay, but that's it, right?"

"They were snorting lines off of Paris Hilton, but I wasn't interested…"

"A magazine cover, right?"

"Yuh-huh…" he nodded, slinging his arm over Axel's shoulders.

Axel struggled up and gently guided the wayward blond to the bed, dumped him there effectively and made to go back to his painting. Honestly, he really wasn't in the mood to deal with this.

"Axel!" Demyx cried, "Axel don't go!"

The redhead sighed. _Crap. _No doubt this would be a long night.

He wandered back over to the bed and shed his paint-stained shirt and shorts, stripped down to his boxers as per usual. Demyx had managed to remove the remainder of his own clothing, likewise in his boxers.

"You're skinny…" Demyx muttered.

"At least I'm not quite anorexic any more," Axel shot back, running his hands along the length of his torso, bringing them back up to check his collarbones again. He was almost normal now. He even had quite a good deal of muscle on his frame. He flopped down on the bed next to Demyx. This was the first time they'd ever done this. How much worse could it get?

"Axel…"

"What?" the redhead mumbled, turning to glance at the blond. His entire body was shaking from head to toe like a kitten in a storm, he was crying again, and sweating to top it off.

Axel had never met anything that released so much moisture other than the shower head or a leaky faucet, and he had to admit, it was sort of sexy.

"Why…why are you so broken, Axel?"

He talked like a little kid when he was fucked up, simple truths and questions normally taboo to adults. The redhead loved it.

"I'm broken?"

"Yeah… you're- like- it's like you're hurt or something. I want to fix you. I don't know how. Tell me?" the blond said quietly, not quite whole himself tonight. He rolled onto his stomach, scooted closer to the redhead until his body heat was unbearable against Axel's skin.

He almost flinched. "Dem…"

"Tell me how I can fix you." The boy propped his head up on the pillow, looked at him with infallible eyes.

"I… I don't know, Dem. I'm missing pieces."

"I'll make new ones!" He replied brightly, flopping back down.

"Dem, you're sweet, but you're also stoned. Go to bed."

"I can't." He pouted. It was getting very hard to resist it.

"Why?"

"'Cause I don't like to leave things… half- half-finished."

"What if I hold you like this?" Axel sighed, rolling onto his side and pulling the unresisting blond up against his chest. Demyx made a soft sound of contentment. "Will you go to bed now?"

"Yeah…" Demyx whispered.

He didn't lie.


	6. Black Holes and Revelations

_So I'm finally back... I was really sad, trust me. I was a very angsty individual during the time that I couldn't post because I kept second guessing. That's bad. When I start second guessing, I mess stuff up... But still, the story goes on and in the same way it started... a little-lot more character D for Demyx here. Lots of cold-people-speak in this one. I know that when I'm freezing and my jaw is going, I can't get out a sentence without pausing to collect myself a few times..._

_Losing one's heater in the middle of winter in Atlanta really does kind of blow... heh._

_Oh... next chapter I'll venerate my beloved favoriters, reviewers, and the people who have kept tabs on this... I totally love you all._

EDIT!

_So... beta'd by the wonderful Mousewolf... you guys should know what to do by now. ;) _

* * *

::: Black Holes and Revelations :::

Demyx yawned, body shaking all over as he did. There was warmth at his back, pleasant and vague, but everywhere else was bleak cold and it was still dark out. He could hear Zipporah whining softly at the edge of the bed, but Axel would probably kill him if he let the dogs up on it… _wait-one-minute-bed-WHAT???_

Demyx leapt up, turning in the process and completely missing the edge of the bed. He made a high-pitched noise of pain and surprise as he crashed to the icy-cold floor, and Axel woke with a start.

"Fucking mother of all things holy!" the redhead yelped, shivering hard, "Get right back here, Dem! It's freezing!"

"I know!" Demyx warbled, jaws chattering loudly. He forgot his initial embarrassment and slid back under the covers and pressed close to Axel as humanly possible. He was faintly aware of the edge of an oncoming migraine, but ignored it and patted the bed in front of Zipporah. She instantly jumped up onto the bed and slid under the covers, curling up against the two men's feet. Axel called Leto and the dog positioned himself similarly.

"T-th-the he-heater must h-have gone ou-out…" Axel stuttered, shivering hard. Demyx felt bad for the guy. He was like a skeleton.

With a strangely decisive movement, the blond hooked a finger in Axel's quivering jaw, silencing the chattering effectively. Axel looked confused, but made no effort to remove the younger man's finger from his mouth. His expression was almost disgustingly unreadable.

Demyx was feeling sort of vaguely apologetic, dim memories of last night returning. "S-Sorry… it's j-j-just th-that I'm getting a… nast-t-… n-nasty headache…"

"Y-yeah," Axel said softly, his words a little warped, "I can imagine. Y-you were p-pretty out of it last night."

"Did I… t-try to rape y-you?"

Axel looked a little surprised. "K-kind of…"

Demyx blushed. "I… err…"

"You w-wh-were just horny. I underst-stand."

"Sorry…"

Axel pulled Demyx into a tight embrace, grinding their shivering bodies hard together. Demyx gasped in surprise, but made no move to escape the strangle-hold Axel had on him. His mouth was warm and there were two fingers hidden behind his lips now. Demyx automatically bent his head, rested it in the crook of the other's neck.

Axel laid them both back gently, nuzzling his face into the mess of Demyx's dirty-blond mohawk, breathing in the faint scent of sweat, hair-gel, and cigarettes. Demyx, now with both hands freed gently slipped them around Axel's gaunt hips. Despite the perfection of the whole situation, despite the fact that this was all going over better than he could have imagined at any other time, Demyx was nervous. His heart pounded in his chest like a jackhammer, but he was breathing deep and slow.

He made his move, slipped his head from under Axel's stubbly chin and pressed his lips to the artist's gently. Axel responded favorably and Demyx soon found himself wrestling for dominance over the redhead, struggling to breathe, hands taking in every inch of pale firmament.

This was too perfect. There had to be something… some catch.

"Is this… a dream…?" Demyx husked, pulling back from the other harshly.

"You only wish…" Axel laughed, pulling the blond back against him.

"Won't this… f-fuck things up?" he moaned, body tensing as Axel's capable hands caressed him in places he wouldn't even dream of letting anyone else touch him.

"It always does," the redhead said softly, "but you know, I'd rather be working for a decent paycheck than trying to win the lottery."

Demyx smiled. "You pulled that from Bright Eyes."

"I did."

"You're a bad boy…" Demyx breathed, writhing in his ecstasy.

"So how are you going to make me pay?"

--- ---

There was a catch.

The problems were more or less apparent instantly. Demyx didn't want to be on the bottom, and neither did Axel, and in this contest of wills, it was only natural that they fought like soldiers for the right of position, and both ended up bearing the bruises from the affair. In the end, it was Axel who lost by a long shot, mostly because he gave up at some point. He really didn't know much about fucking men, and secretly he was rather curious about what it felt like on the receiving end.

Demyx, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was doing. Axel couldn't help but feel like an instrument in the blond's capable hands… but it never actually escalated as far as Axel had expected it. Demyx was shockingly chaste for someone who had been waiting for so long.

"Now that we've got this straight," Demyx panted, looking down at the redhead between his legs, "I think we should take it easy for a little while."

"What do you mean?"

"I highly doubt you've ever gotten it dans l'âne."

Axel hesitated. "Wait… you just said what now?"

"I'm not touching your butt tonight," Demyx said rather flatly. It made Axel cringe a little with disgust.

"Dem… you're no angel are you?"

"I'm a whore, Axel. A complete whore." He said it with deathly seriousness. "Anyway, I need a smoke, and it's still fucking freezing in here… what should we do?"

"I'm not sure… lay down, you ass! You're getting cold air under the sheets!"

Demyx obliged, arranging himself mostly on top of the redhead, head resting gently on the other's chest. He smiled.

"I can hear your heartbeat."

"You're such a little kid sometimes."

"It's neat, though… don't you think it's kind of cool?"

"I don't know… I never really bothered with anything like that."

Demyx smiled, rolled over onto his back and dragged Axel with him. The redhead looked confused, hands resting lightly on the younger blond's well-muscled chest. Demyx pulled Axel down against him.

"Listen," he whispered, closing his eyes and stroking the other man's thick fiery hair.

And Axel did. He could technically say he'd never really been this close to another human being before, and it was a little awkward for him for some reason. He listened to the soft but strong drumming of the other's heart against his ear… it was so foreign, but so calming. There was something deep and old about it, like the sound of the sea.

"Told you," Demyx laughed his voice much more full and rich like this.

"Yeah…" Axel replied, "It _is_ pretty cool…"

--- ---

Christmas was nearing rapidly, and Axel had painted his first self-portrait. Demyx had laughed when he took the picture, instantly proclaiming it a "MySpace pic." Axel didn't mind that though. He secretly took it and began painting it. He also worked on a couple of candid shots Demyx had gotten of him at their favourite little café.

One of him sitting quietly at a table with a big umbrella overhead, a teacup gripped lightly in his fingers, nearly everything in white, his hair a sharp but pleasing contrast. The second, a shot of him taking a break from one of the paintings, hands still covered in a multicolored coat of acrylic, silhouetted in sliding-glass door to the balcony on the second floor.

He wanted to finish all three of them before Christmas. He had never really been good buying gifts, so this is what he'd always done. He made things.

He checked the wall clock and snorted. About an hour until Demyx got home from his job as a guitar teacher. He'd leave the painting as it was for now and then return it to where it was covered in its own little nook next to the other two. He would wait until Dem fell asleep that night before starting on it again.

The heater was still broken, but the landlord had brought in an ample amount of space heaters, and Axel didn't mind it so much. The only thing he had to watch out for was the dogs - they kept getting too close and singeing off hair and whatnot and already their backs were looking patchy.

He sighed and escaped to the kitchen, poured himself a cup of coffee. No sugar or cream. He was just too damn lazy right now. He was enjoying said coffee when the phone rang. He put the cup down and hunted for the handset. It was never, ever in the base unless Demyx actually remembered to put it back. He discovered it under a pair of Demyx's black jeans.

"H'lo?"

"Um… Hi. Is Demyx around, by chance?"

Another man's voice… mystified, he wondered who it could possibly be, because for a moment whoever it was sounded exactly like the musician. "He's at work right now - should be back in an hour or so, but if it's really important I can give you his cell."

"I have it, but I'm kind of afraid to call…"

"Who is this?"

"Uh… tell him Zell Dincht called, okay? I'd really appreciate it. I've been looking for him for four years."

Axel was taken aback, all he could manage was a quiet, "Sure."

"Um… just out of curiosity, you're Axel, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Thanks for taking care of my little bro. I've been worried. He can be such a cry-baby sometimes."

The line cut promptly.

Axel stared at the handset for a second, then turned it off and dumped the phone numbly back into its cradle in the base. He hadn't even known that Demyx had a brother at all.

They needed to talk.

--- ---

"I'm home, Darling Dearest!" Demyx called loudly, stepping into the door with a broad grin on his handsome face, "I got a Crimmus bonus!"

He loved saying shit as weird as he possibly could.

Axel was sitting distractedly on the couch, a bottle of Irish Cream lying limply between his legs and a big cup of coffee in his delicate hand.

Demyx came in, grin fading only slightly. "Drinking this early, Axel? I'm disappointed. It's only 4:30!"

"Demyx… your older brother called. Zell, he said his name was. He said he's been looking for you for… four years…"

"Jesus…" Demyx breathed, suddenly clawing his phone out of his pocket. "Axel, did he leave a number?"

"It's in the phone, but – Dem-"

"I can't talk now, I'm sorry. But I promise I'll tell you everything. I have to talk to him."

"Your last name isn't Dincht." State the obvious, Axel. Yeah, real smart.

"I know. I changed it. I didn't want them to find me in the first place…"

"Who? Who didn't you want to find you?"

He paused painfully, dropping the phone back into the base. "Mom and dad…"

He paused, then mumbled, "I'll be back in a few."

Demyx pressed the call button on his cell phone and slipped back out the door without his coat.


	7. Everything's Eventual

_Hmm... so... I couldn't help it. Someone presented me with the theory that Zell is Demyx's somebody, and a whole lot of people speculate that Axel and Reno have that... well, Carie says she wants to use Zell and Demyx as brothers... don't they fit kind of well? Anyway, yeah, that's how it is._

_There was supposed to be a little cliffhanger here... but I might not be able to repress the urge to post the next part tonight... Heh._

_Thanks to __FunnyItsNotMe, GROTESQUEpanda, HappyCrabMearii, Kiaru-Mitosai, Lavender341, and keitii-chan for adding this story to your favorites! You guys totally rock my socks off!!! _

_And finally, to xXInu-SamaXx, WhiteWolfShaera, HappyCrabMearii, Water-gem, Miyo Yukimora, Metal Chocobo, FunnyItsNotMe, and lemon-sprinkles, my reviewers as of right now... you guys make my day. I'm writing for you, so don't hesitate to beat me over the head with a stick when I get distracted. _

EDIT!

_This reminds me that I need to go back through and thank you all again. _

_As you well know, this was beta'd by the ever amazing Mousewolf! You know what you gotta do, friends!_

* * *

::: Everything's Eventual :::

"Did you tell them?"

"Who?" Zell sighed, sipping his tea civilly.

Demyx was tense, every part of him twitchy, ready to be hit, or hit, or run again.

"You _know_ of whom I speak," he grated. He always took a heavily formal tone when he was pissed, and right now he was _royally_ pissed.

"Mom and Dad?" Zell asked stupidly. He'd always been kind of an idiot. "Why the hell would I tell them? They think you died in a fucking car wreck."

"Wh-what?" he croaked, suddenly shocked out of his anger.

"Yeah. You're legally dead, you know. You've got a death certificate, a tombstone, the whole nine yards. They found your car in the canal and sent in dive teams. They told mom and dad that you probably drowned and got carried away in the current. So they think you're dead and they just never found your body."

It was almost too much to take in.

"You really did crash, didn't you?"

"Yeah… but I was able to get out."

"Champ swimmer," Zell laughed, "It figures. They thought I was insane looking for you like this… but I figured since I've got more money than I could ever spend that I would keep up the search. And here you are, living with a famous artist of all people… I kind of want to bring you home with me."

"I can't, Zell, I'm not what they want me to be…never will, or can be." he sighed. Now he just felt like shit.

"I didn't want to tell you this so soon - but your girlfriend…"

"What about Rose?" he cried, grabbing his brother's hands desperately. The older blond stared back unflinchingly, brows furrowed, wrinkling the tattoo on the side of his face.

"Rose committed suicide after she thought you died. She said it was her fault for telling you to run in her suicide note." Zell paused, "If you came home… you could bring some light into people's hearts."

"No…" Demyx whispered. He'd heard nothing past 'committed suicide'. "I killed her, Zell… I killed her."

"No you didn't!" Zell barked, standing up and pulling his brother up with him by the collar. "You didn't kill her! She did it on her own! I told her to wait and see but she didn't listen to me!"

Demyx was a cry-baby. He always had been. He clung to the other desperately, bitter tears soaking into his brother's jacket. Zell held his younger brother; this was so terribly familiar. It was like the time when Seifer Almasy, the boy down the street, had thrown a rock and hit poor little Demyx in the head. He'd cried like mad.

"Shh…" Zell soothed, "It's not your fault - you had to go."

"I killed her and I broke mom's heart. I-I disappointed dad…" Demyx sobbed, "Why couldn't I just be normal like you?"

"They shouldn't have done that to you."

"Why am I such a fuck-up?" the younger blond sobbed pathetically, "I'm nothing but a useless fag, just like dad said…"

"Dad was wrong, Dem. You need to move on. You've been hiding it for all these years… if you come home, maybe we can fix some of this…"

"I need to talk to Axel…" Demyx choked, pulling away from his brother, "He's the only one I have now…"

"That's alright," Zell said softly, "And I have a Christmas gift for you."

He pressed a set of car keys into Demyx's numb hands with a smile.

"I hope you like it."

--- ---

Demyx looked tired, haggard even, when he got home. He said nothing. He only stripped off his coat and tossed everything on the floor with his boots, stumbled to the bed where Axel was quietly reading and collapsed, crawled into the redhead's arms.

"Hey, you okay?" Axel asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"We have a car," Demyx answered, and instantly broke into choking sobs.

"Excusemewhat?" Axel blurted all at once.

Demyx tugged him off the bed and dragged the redhead to the window, pulled back the drapes and pointed to a beautiful, sleek black Corvette z06 sitting right in the parking spot where Larxene's car always used to be.

"Seriously, Dem. That's not funny," Axel sighed, slightly upset that someone would park in his spot—even if he didn't have a car—and also that Demyx was acting like it was theirs.

Demyx laughed. It was a weird combination, seeing as he was still in tears. He didn't say anything, just reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He pressed a button and the car started with a deep bass purr.

Axel let out a cry somewhere between shock and joy and promptly fainted.

--- ---

After the gratuitous cruise and the thorough inspection, the two finally came home, Demyx still somewhat leaky, and Axel still ready to faint at a moment's notice. Demyx led the way back to the apartment, bade Axel sit down with him on the bed, and that was when he finally decided to give Axel the harder half of the news.

"Axel… I have something really important that I need to ask you."

"Yeah?" Axel replied hesitantly. He knew serious Demyx could mean something bad.

"Will you come home with me, t-to Florida? I have some unfinished business there…"

"Well sure. That's not bad at all," Axel laughed, "Why are you all solemn about it?"

Demyx faltered for a moment, ran his hands through his hair, tried for a matter-of-fact tone. "Well, my parents think I'm dead."

Awkward silence filled the room, and Demyx lowered his head.

Finally, Axel said, "Oh… Why?"

"I ran from home after… after my parents found out I was gay. My dad didn't take it that well, and I just decided to cut and run because he was threatening to make my life a living hell." Demyx gave a shaky little sigh, but smiled softly when Axel slipped his hands into his.

"It's alright… We'll go. I don't mind at all," Axel murmured, tipping Demyx's chin up gently, kissed him softly, then laughed. "I needed a break from all this snow anyway."


	8. Headlights on Dark Roads

_This is a really short chapter, but really it didn't fit any other chapters and it was pretty stand-alone, so I clipped it from its original piece. Travelling songs... Demyx is somewhat reluctant to recount his past because it's still pretty close and he doesn't like to think about it._

_He can be vindictive._

_Worst of all, he can be the antihesis of nice at times, and he tries to hide that part of himself. He really does a good job of it too..._

_Also, tonight I just want to send up some prayers for the kids that were wounded and who died at Virginia Tech this morning... God rest your souls._

EDIT!

_Y'all should know by now ;) Go thank Mousewolf. Without her, this story most likely would have gotten scrapped long ago. She kept the toxins of inspiration flowing to me when I lost out to the air._

* * *

::: Headlights on Dark Roads :::

Axel and Demyx decided to take turns driving the 'Vette through the night, and Axel had volunteered for the first shift, loving the feeling that he was riding a nuclear warhead. Demyx slumped in his seat, sipping a Redbull moodily. He hadn't said more than two syllables at once in the past hour and a half, and Axel was really starting to worry about the younger man. He was never this quiet. Ever.

"You okay, kid?"

Demyx shifted a little, and then casually turned up the music, ignoring the redhead completely.

Axel sighed and returned his eyes to the road.

Demyx started singing.

"_If only the crying could heal  
I'd sell my left arm to buy passion  
If only apologies worked  
Well I could find some reasons  
Why maybe you wouldn't be  
So ill, so, ill, sorry your souls  
so fucking shallow  
it's creeping outside, outside of its hole  
it's trying to see, say it  
fake this reality_."

He smiled viciously, lifting his slightly more than mediocre voice to blend with the song. He could sing a mean harmony, without a doubt. Even better, he could actually scream well enough to match most of these sorts of songs.

Axel reached up and turned off the radio as soon as the song ended. Demyx, disappointed, slumped back into the red leather.

"What's up with you?"

"That's my line, sweetie."

Demyx shifted nervously again and reached up for the radio dial. Axel promptly batted his hand away.

"Fine," Demyx sighed, "I'll tell you everything."

"Everything?"

"It's a good story at least… Marko told me I should publish it."

"You told Marko, and you neglected me?"

"Of course I told Marko!" Demyx grumbled, sounding offended, "He wanted to know why I am the way I am. I told him 'cause he asked."

"Alright… then tell me your story."

He sighed, stretched and made himself as comfortable as he possibly could.

"Well… it all starts with a stupid little mistake…"


	9. Somewhere Else: I

_The piece the traveling song led up into... I felt like this worked better separate. This is a lot of angst and teenage pain and all that wonderful shit you go through after hitting puberty. Oh the drama. But he did get screwed over, to tell the truth..._

EDIT!

_You know already. Direct those thanks and love to the proper place:D_

* * *

:::Somewhere Else - part 1::: 

"I was twelve at the time," he began, smooth, light tenor filling up the small cabin richly, "I was in love with a girl named Kairi Wallace, and she was the damn prettiest thing I had ever seen. She had a brother two grades ahead, and I thought that maybe if I could make friends with him, I could get closer to her. Now see here. He was in his eighth grade year, and next year he would be in high school, and I was a lowly sixth-grader. I knew my chances were low, but I had to do something.

"He was a cool enough kid. He kind of impressed everyone 'cause he was only fourteen, but he'd gotten some nasty scars, lost an eye in a car-crash when he was my age back then. I knew everyone thought the whole eye-patch thing was cool, yeah, but I felt sorry for him. There were a lot of things he couldn't do because of it, but I guess he made up for that stuff when he got into shooting rifles. He was actually really good. I thought it was cool, and I had to impress him.

"So that year, I tried to make the rifle team, and I guess I was good enough to get in, but I never really made my niche. I was so pathetic. I could barely hold the gun, much-less shoot it… and that's how I caught his eye, I guess. He saw me struggling along, and well, he figured he might as well help me out.

"I can't tell you how hard he tried to get me on the right track, but I never really improved. He would always just smile and tell me, 'You should join the swim team, kid! You've got the perfect body for it. You'll be like a fish in the water.' I guess I didn't realize what kind of compliment that was…"

--- ---

"So you made the team, bro! Good job! I told you, little dude," Braig laughed, his tone taking that ever-present southern-California surfer sound.

"Yeah! You were right!" Demyx crowed. He'd never felt so superior in his life. "They said I have a good chance of being team captain next year!"

He danced around on the crunchy, sun-baked brown grass happily, skipping circles around his older friend with a huge goofy grin on his face.

"Sweet!" the older boy laughed, smoothing back his shoulder-length black hair, "How about we go celebrate? Just you and me, shrimp."

"Sounds good," Demyx replied, aborting his own celebrations and falling into step beside the older boy. "Where do you want to go?"

"I dunno…" Braig mumbled, coming to a stop and scratching his head thoughtfully, "How about my place? I've got some stuff lying around. I cook better than your mom, I bet!"

"Hell no!" Demyx giggled, mock-offended.

"Hell yes! Now let's get goin' before your mom comes to get you. I'll call her when we get to my house and tell her where you are."

He put both hands on the boy's shoulders, pushing him forward. By the time he'd gotten the blond moving, it became a race, and though Demyx was, by all means, quick on his feet, Braig was faster, leading with massive strides, black hair flying behind him like a pirate flag. His laughter was loud.

"Wait!" Demyx called, "You run like a chicken, old man!"

"You're just jealous!" Braig laughed, pulling his pace back down until they were finally back to a comfortable stroll, Demyx still puffing and panting at that point. The blond leaned up against his friend's shoulder, a broad grin on his sweet face.

"Why didn't you join track? You run like a dog."

"I guess it has to do with this," Braig said softly, tapping the patch over his right eye. "I don't have really good depth-perception any more… and I can't see someone coming up behind me on that side."

"Oh…" It always made Demyx terribly sad to talk about these things, and he hung his head a little.

"Hey… chin up, kid," Braig said softly, throwing an arm over the younger boy's shoulders tipping his chin up with the other hand. His single gold eye glimmered like a Spanish doubloon. "No need to feel sorry for me, little dude. I've done pretty well for myself, haven't I?"

"Yeah…" Demyx said softly, "It's just that I can't imagine… losing something like that."

Braig shrugged. "It's kinda hard at first, but then you sort of get used to it. I reckon people can get used to most things, really."

Demyx stopped and Braig stumbled to emulate. He stared down at the young blond, probably five or six inches shorter than he himself was. "What's up?"

Demyx hugged his friend, burying his face in the older boy's chest to hide his tears. Boys weren't supposed to cry and he knew it all too well. To his surprise, the hug was reciprocated, and more. One hand wrapped firmly around the small of his back, and the other cradled his head gently. He could feel the older boy's chin on top of his head, the press of his lips.

That was the odd part of all of it. He'd never felt someone do that unless…

Braig turned his head, resting his cheek on top of Demyx's soft baby-blond hair.

He had just been kissed by another boy, and somehow, this made Demyx fill with strange warmth. His heart was suddenly pounding in his chest.

"Take it easy, kid. You're shaking like a leaf in a hurricane," Braig said softly.

"I… I've just… never…"

"Been kissed by anyone but your mom, right?" the older boy laughed. "Come on. Lets get going. We've still got a few blocks to walk."

The embrace evaporated and Braig was walking with his casual, long legged stride, hands in his pockets. Demyx took a moment to try and calm his pounding heart and jogged to catch up. It couldn't mean anything. Boys didn't kiss other boys unless they were pansies, and Demyx knew for a fact that Braig was no pansy. How could he be?

--- ---

"So basically, another boy kissed you and you couldn't figure it out?" Axel asked.

"Nope," Demyx replied, "Pretty stupid, huh?"

"Yeah. A little." The redhead shrugged, nodded. "But then, you were really young. How could you know?"

"I just should have. I was always a little slow." Demyx smiled, "Anyway, I should probably tell you what happened after that."

--- ---

Braig's house was a big, ugly Victorian thing, way out of place on a Florida beach-front, but it was close enough to access this little sandbar just offshore where Kairi and he would meet Sora and Riku to play every summer. Demyx was a kind-of-new addition to the group since he'd become such a good friend to Braig, and so Demyx really had made his way into Kairi's life. She even looked to him as a friend, which was the original plan.

The auburn haired girl met the two boys at the porch, waving and laughing, and both jogged up to greet her enthusiastically.

"Hey Eden!" Kairi called happily.

--- ---

"Wait a sec," Axel interrupted, "Eden?"

"Yeah… I had to change my name, you know. So no one would find me," Demyx laughed, a sad little smile on his face, "Demyx was actually a nickname Braig gave me. I gave him one too. We thought names with an 'x' were pretty damn cool at the time."

"Nicknames?"

"Yeah. E-d-e-n, and D-e-n-y-x. He didn't like the sound of the 'n' so he changed it to an 'm' 'cause he said it sounded like 'Da mix'. It was like - one of his favorite techno CDs or something." The dirty blond laughed loudly, "This is a little embarrassing. But anyway, I named him Xigbar. Xiggy for short."

"That doesn't have an 'x'…" Axel mumbled.

"No! No, no, no… not with a 'z'. X-i-g-b-a-r."

"Oh, I get it. So you just kind of rearranged your names and put in an 'x'?"

"Yeah. But my name was originally Eden. People actually started calling me and him by our nicknames, but not at that point. Anyway…"

--- ---

"Hey Eden!"

"Kairi! Hey, you. Been a while, huh?" Eden laughed. "I've missed you. You haven't been in guitar class lately."

"Oh… I had trouble with my hands again," she admitted sheepishly. Eden trotted up the stairs and took her hands in his, trying to keep his blush from appearing at such a moment.

"Your fingers are a little raw… how much have you been playing?"

"A lot," she explained, "But I can't figure out how to keep my calluses from wearing off."

"Yeah," he said softly, "I had that problem before, but it's pretty much non-existent now 'cuz I play so much…"

On a whim, he lifted her reddened fingertips to his lips, kissed them gently and smiled. Kairi blushed hotly.

"What was that for?" she blurted.

"I figured I'd kiss them better," he giggled, blushing a little. "Um, so Braig… how should we celebrate?"

The older boy looked a little distant, rocking back and forth on the big old rocking chair that had been there since any of them could remember. "I dunno… what do you like?"

Eden thought about it.

"How about pancakes for dinner?" the blond suggested, finally.

"Now we're talkin', little dude! Let's do it!" Braig laughed, "To the kitchen with you. You too, Kai!"

They were ushered into the kitchen where both aided an apron-clad Braig in making batter for their dinner. Eden completely forgot about his mother until the phone rang.

"Shit!" the blond cried, instantly contrite when Kairi winced. "Sorry…"

"Go get it, Kai, I'm a little busy," Braig mumbled, folding beaten egg whites into the soupy batter. The older boy liked his pancakes as fluffy as he could get them.

Eden and the young girl trotted out into the living room and Kairi answered the phone with a knowing smile. "Yes, Mrs. Dincht, Eden is here. Would you like to speak with him?"

There was a little pause.

"Okay. He's having dinner here."

Another pause.

"Nine? Alright. No problem."

She giggled cutely.

"Okay, bye-bye."

"What did she say?" Eden demanded as soon as the phone landed in its cradle.

"She said you can stay for dinner, but you have to be home by nine."

"Aww!" he moaned, "It's a Friday! I wanted to spend the night…"

"Well, mom and dad are still at work," Kairi replied distractedly, "But I don't think they would care if you stayed!"

There was a little pause, and Eden sucked in a deep breath, let it out in a sigh.

"Um, Kairi, there's something I need to ask you."

"Yeah?"

"Um… err… I like you, Kairi."

"I like you too. What's important about that?" she laughed naïvely.

"No, no, Kairi… I _like_ like you… Um…" He turned, away, an embarrassed flush burning from ear to ear.

"Oh…" she whispered in shock.

There was a long moment of silence except for the crackling of pancakes of the griddle in the kitchen. "Um, Eden… I'm dating Sora."

His heart sank. "Oh."

"I'm - really sorry…"

"No. You don't have any reason to be. It's fine. Really," and for the first time in his life, Eden swallowed his sorrows and grinned instead. "I'm glad he got a girl as nice as you."

He floated back to the kitchen. Unrequited love could be the single most devastating thing he'd ever experienced.

And Braig had exceptionally sharp ears.

The ate in relative silence, and when they were done and Kairi was telling them about the caterpillar that Riku picked up the other day, Eden quietly announced that he was going to take a walk on the beach. He left with little else to say, slipping out the front door and down the porch. He wanted to feel the water against his skin. He needed it.

The water was as dark and flat as slate, the sky mirrored somewhat on its cold surface. It looked like a storm was coming, but Eden didn't mind. He stripped down to his tight swim-shorts and kicked aside his clothes in a pile, ran and dove into the water gracefully. He swam magnificently.

He wasn't aware that anyone had followed him until he reached the sandbar. At low tide it was mostly exposed, and he was only about ankle deep in the chilly water when he turned to see Braig laboring toward him. He waited, sitting cross-legged on the wet sand.

Braig beached himself and crawled the rest of the way up next to Eden.

"What the hell are you doing? I thought you were going for a walk," he panted, thick black hair sticking flat against his thin neck and shoulders.

"You know, I told Kairi I liked her today…"

"I didn't know you had a thing for my sister…" Braig laughed, but the mirth soon faded. He knew what this was leading to. "She told you about Sora, then?"

"Yeah…" Eden choked. He began to cry.

Braig pulled himself up onto his knees and gently drew his friend into a loving embrace. "Hey, it's alright."

Eden melted like so much candle wax under a hot sun. He sobbed, clutching at the other's bare chest, wishing that he could have what had been denied him. He'd tired so hard and he would tell this, his confidant, how hard he'd really tried.

His mouth moved unintelligibly for a while, until he was interrupted by a strong, warm set of lips on his own. Eden's eyes went wide, but Braig's last remaining was shut, and Eden did the same, unsure of how this all worked. He'd never been kissed. Ever.

Braig pulled the younger boy even closer, his chilled skin heating with the contact. Eden shivered in his arms, he could feel the younger boy's heart pounding against his own chest with nervousness, and he deepened the kiss, gently tipping back the blond head so that he could part those pale lips. Eden was afraid, but he didn't pull back until he felt Braig's tongue in his mouth. He pulled back abruptly.

"Wh-what was that?" he cried.

"A kiss." Braig said simply, "But, if you're uncomfortable… I'll leave you alone."

"No," Eden said softly, "No, I liked it… do it again."

--- ---

"So you got your first kiss from a boy?" Axel said, his voice carrying only the smallest hint of disgust.

"Yeah. Who'd you kiss? Alice May Louis, the girl next door?" Demyx teased, "At least mine was a little exotic."

"Actually," Axel made a face, slightly. "I kissed my cousin who was ten years older than I was… but we'll save that for another time."

Demyx paused awkwardly. "Riiiight. Well, I should probably tell you about Rose now. I met Rose Torri a year later when she moved in, and right then and there, since she was a lesbian, I took her as my cover-girlfriend. It was just to make everyone think I was straight and help protect her secret too. At the time, being gay wasn't really accepted all that well."

--- ---

"Do it again!" the pretty brown-haired, brown-eyed girl laughed. She was beautiful with pale skin and freckles, and she liked other girls.

"Okay," Xigbar agreed, pulling Demyx up to straddle his hips. The thirteen-year-old did so obligingly, locked his lips with the fifteen-year-old pirate.

She loved to watch boys make out.

Xigbar pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. He smiled something fierce as Demyx gave a sighing moan, grinding his hips down against the older boy's.

"So, Xigbar, Demyx. What do you two want to do tonight?"

"I don't know," Eden mumbled shakily, dismounting from his companion's hips.

"Let's go to a movie," Xigbar suggested, "I think they're showing Rocky Horror tonight at the drive-in…"

"Yeah, but none of us can drive," Rose pouted.

Demyx nodded in agreement.

"Who ever said that?" Xigbar laughed, "I'm more knowledgeable than you know."


	10. Somewhere Else: II

_I wouldn't leave you guys hanging like that... so here's the other half. Really the only reason I broke that one in two was because I was uncomfortable posting it all in one piece. The other half of the story is the rough part. Lots of childish cursing and the like... Demyx is an angry boy all filled with angst and poison for this part. And he actually admits why he's reluctant to actually do anything with Axel. Teehee._

_Erm... Beta'd by you-know-who. Gotta love her. She's a star! XD_

* * *

:: Somewhere else part 2 – Kissed a girl ::

"So you guys went to see Rocky Horror?"

"It was one of our favorite movies," Demyx laughed, "The best ever. We used to see it just about every other week 'cause Xigbar actually had it. It was always cool to go see it at the drive-in, though."

"Sounds pretty cool," Axel admitted.

"If it's still there, consider it a date," Demyx remarked matter-of-factly, he allowed a few moments of silence to let it sink in, and then continued with his story. "We went and I got stoned for the first time in the back of Xigbar's dad's big Caddie, and we had a wild time."

"You fucked?"

"No. Just played around…"

"Just out of curiosity, who did you lose it to?"

Demyx was silent, a pensive look on his face. He finally spoke, but it was low and quiet. "Uh, no one…"

Axel bristled. "You're a virgin?"

"So?" Demyx muttered defensively.

"Jesus. I just feel so dirty now…" The redhead was looking fixedly at the steering wheel.

The other shrugged. "It's alright. I've just been looking for the person I won't regret giving myself to."

"Really?"

"Yeah…" he smiled, "Anyway, the story picks up when I got back home. My parents were gone for the weekend… or so I thought."

--- ---

"You two are so fucking hot!" Rose practically squealed, watching the two boys grind one another passionately. Demyx was so fucked up that he had no idea where he was.

"Oh god! Oh god, oh my fucking god!" the boy gasped throatily.

Xigbar's hands traveled up shirtless sides, clamped tight on Demyx's hips. He was so strong.

"Hey guys… hold up…" Rose said softly, "I think I heard car doors."

"You're just paranoid," Xigbar panted, trying to get better leverage on Demyx's living room couch. Demyx drove his hips down bending to deliver a savage bite to the older boy's neck.

"My parents… aren't coming home… 'til… Monday!" Demyx panted.

On that note, the door swung wide open, and all three froze.

"Mom, Dad…!" Demyx yelped, jumping off of his boyfriend and searching wildly for his shirt. He pulled it back on, looking like he'd rather disappear into it.

"What… what were you doing, honey?" his mother asked softly. Zell stood behind her, looking confused.

What scared him was his father, standing there, the silent gargoyle in the doorway. Then he roared. "No son of mine will be a useless piece-of-shit faggot!"

He stamped into the room, tossing his son rough away and practically picking up Xigbar up by the scruff of the neck. He dragged the older boy out the door and tossed him roughly to the brick-paved path. He tried to come back in, screaming something about _his_ Demyx, and Demyx, stupid in his current state of mind, tried to punch his father, only ending up having his arm wrenched behind his back painfully.

"Don't you fucking touch him!" Demyx screamed, writhing painfully. "If you hurt him I'll fucking castrate you! I'll kill you!"

"It's not his fault!" Rose cried, "Don't hurt him."

"Out of my house, you perverted cunt!" The elder Dincht snarled like a lion.

Rose stood there looking hurt for a moment, then ran headlong out the door, dragging Xigbar with her. It was the best they could do for Demyx at this point, and they knew it.

"I fucking hate you!" Demyx sobbed weakly. "I hate you!"

"And you're going to hate me even more soon," his father promised.

--- ---

Axel was shocked to silence.

Demyx nodded. "Yeah… I jumped out my window two days later and broke both legs. So I was really trapped after that. I had to deal with the therapists first."

"T-therapists?" funny, his voice wasn't really working too good right now.

"Yeah, they were pretty bad."

--- ---

Demyx stared stubbornly though the therapist.

"Tell me, Eden, why do you think you're here," she said in her annoyingly soft, friendly voice.

"It's Demyx. D-E-M-Y-X, you brick-headed bitch," he hissed, "and about me being here, I don't want to be, I don't care. Fuck you."

"That's not a nice thing to say, Eden."

"Fuck you."

"Eden, please watch your l—"

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" he screamed, clamping his hands over his ears, doubling over.

They wouldn't make much progress here.

--- ---

Axel was still silent.

"Then there was the church…" Demyx said with a shudder, "That was the worst."

--- ---

"Eden Dincht, I care for your soul… I want to see you in heaven, but if you partake in such perversion of the Lord's gifts to us… you'll be banished to hell," the pastor said softly, brimstone twinkling in his eyes like stars, "I can't bear to see a beautiful young soul like yours, a talented swimmer and musician, a pure child like you end up in hell…"

"If I'm going to hell for loving someone, then fuck you. God's a fucking asshole if he sends me to hell for loving another human being."

"I see, Eden."

"Demyx! It's Demyx, you fuck-tards!"

"Then we'll take as much time as you need, Eden. But I will break you of your sinful behaviour no matter what happens."

--- ---

Demyx fell silent.

After a long pause, Axel finally spoke up again.

"So how long did that go on?"

"Two years," Demyx replied. "I was just fifteen when I snuck out my window a little more successfully that time. I went to Rose, and Xigbar met us."

--- ---

"So what are you going to do Dem?" Rose asked pensively.

The blond sighed, pressing his face closer to Xigbar's chest. The older boy sniffled quietly. It was the first time they'd seen each other in six months and the new scars puckering across Demyx's once smooth wrists were devastating.

"I'm too scared to kill myself," he admitted, "I think I'm going to run away."

"You should!" Rose cried.

"I'll teach you to drive," Xigbar said softly, "That'll help you get your foot in the door, at least."

--- ---

Demyx sighed.

"That's how the shit began."

Demyx paused painfully.

"You mean, that's why your parents think you're dead?" Axel queried, just for the sake of keeping the kid talking.

"Yeah."

--- ---

Demyx palmed the keys to the Jeep, hung his body out the window and dropped to the ground, wincing as his legs gathered heavy beneath him. He'd always remember the previous breaks by that pain.

He slinked around front and hopped into the doorless vehicle, pulled out the parking break, and let it coast down the driveway before starting it. He turned the vehicle on at the end and drove off into the night. He needed to see Rose and Xigbar first.

He drove the familiar streets in silence, holding the speed limit and trying not to look suspicious. If he got pulled over, he'd really be fucked.

He pulled up in front of Rose's house, making sure that no one was home except the girl. He smiled, ran to the door and rapped on it loudly. She answered it within seconds, Xigbar right behind.

"I'm going…"

"Good!" she cried, pulling him into a crushing hug, "Be strong… don't get caught, okay?"

"Dem… I love you…" Xigbar said softly, waiting his turn.

As soon as Rose was out of the way, the two boys were clutching each other desperately.

"I'll come home to you when I'm free. I promise…" Demyx whispered into the other boy's ear.

"In that case, let's not say goodbye, shrimp." Xigbar said softly, "I love you more than you know."

"I love you too," Demyx whispered, pressing his lips to the older boy's.

They parted bitterly and Demyx took one last look before scuttling back down to the Jeep and driving off into the night. He was teary eyed, but he was as free as he could possibly be now. He held the road carefully, until, of course, he looked down to change the radio. Some idiot pulled out in front of him at that very inopportune moment.

Demyx swerved to avoid crushing the smaller car, went off the road, and before he knew it, he was swiftly sinking into a murky brown canal. The seatbelt was like a noose. The nails in the lid of the coffin. Dazed and confused, he sucked in one last breath before the canal swallowed him whole.

He struggled against the belt desperately, but it wouldn't come free. He pulled and kicked and yanked at it, but it was no use. The water tasted like dirt and blood and it was black and quiet down here. The Jeep settled to the bottom on its side with a loud thud. He continued to struggle, not even sure what was up or down. He needed air bad. He had to calm down.

_Find the lock, _he thought desperately.

His hand sought downward fingers bumping over the buckle lock. They pressed hard on the button, yanked the belt and it came free.

Demyx kicked at the canvas door on the passenger side, pushed himself through and swam desperately to the faint glimmers of light over his head. He broke the surface, gasping for air.

He clawed up onto the embankment, struggled to lip it and got to his feet. He didn't even know what he was doing, he just ran, barefoot and bloodied. He ran until he couldn't run any more and finally collapsed into a ditch and passed out there until the next morning.

--- ---

"So how'd you… you know, start your new life?" Axel asked after a moment of silence.

"I hitch-hiked to Tallahassee from there, got a hair-cut and started saying I was eighteen. I was able to change my name and all that… I even got a fake I.D."

Axel paused, suddenly puzzling out the math in his head.

"You told me you were twenty-two…" he mumbled.

"I'm nineteen."

"_Fuck_," Axel hissed, eyes widening. He pulled over, looked Demyx straight in the eyes. Blue-green stared back at him calmly. "You lied to me."

"I had to, Axel…" he said softly, eyes suddenly downcast, "You don't know what it's like to have to live a completely new life."

"You're right!" the redhead cried bitterly, "I don't, but you lied to me! You never even bothered to tell me the truth!"

"Please don't yell," Demyx sighed, "You never asked…"

Axel bit back his rage. The kid was right on that one.

"Tell me everything you haven't told the truth about, then."

Demyx thought about it.

"I don't think there's anything else… I smoked pot for a long time, but I don't really do it anymore. I stopped 'cause I figured I don't have enough brain-cells as it is."

"That's it?"

"You know me from head to toe."

"No lies. No bullshit."

"None whatsoever."

Axel paused. "If, when we get there, you see Braig again… Will you go back to him?"

"It was teenage love," Demyx responded too swiftly.

"Think about it, Dem," Axel said softly, pulling back into traffic carefully.

He paused too. "No… I… I love _you_. There's no one else but you for me."

Axel smiled.

He had a feeling the kid wasn't lying about that.


	11. Konstantine

_Yay! Since you can actually make the ATL to S.FLA trip in about eight hours without traffic, they chose to do exactly that. The telling of Dem's story was at night, so they were probably heading down through the Central Florida area at that point..._

_And the potato thing... that comes from real life. _

_Slipping back out of the angst for a while now._

* * *

Like every other hotel room in America, it was freezing fucking cold when they got in and Demyx didn't seem to mind it. He was tired enough that as soon as he hit the sheets he was out cold.

Axel, however, was more or less obsessed with upkeep. Like a common housewife, he said, "Yeah, be there in a sec, babe," and then proceeded to take a shower, dress in a pair of pajama pants, brush, floss, examine his face at great length, and then do some tidying before he actually laid down next to his lover to go to bed.

"Stop… throwing the potato…" Demyx moaned in distress.

"I won't throw the potato," Axel promised, smiling softly.

"But… the Julian fries… potato!" Demyx persisted, writhing against the redhead's side.

"Julian won't touch the potato. The potato will survive, Dem…"

"Potato…" he whined one last time before falling into a deep sleep.

"God you're cute," Axel sighed, running a hand through the boy's thick blond hair. It wasn't long before he too was out cold.

--- ---

Axel woke to a cherub's voice. He had no idea in the world that Demyx could sing like _that_. Another side of his lover. The boy had more masks and false walls than anyone else he knew of, but knowing his life story was enough. It was kind of nice to have someone who was like a big bag of surprises living at his side.

"_And you bring me home_

'_Cause we both know what it's like to be alone, oh_

_And I'm dreaming in your living room_

_But we don't have much room_

_To live_."

He sang softly, running a generous handful of soft pomade into his thick hair, standing it up as best he could. It fell down almost instantly, but this time he palmed some wax and when it finally got soft enough, he added that, and it seemed to stand a little better.

"_This is because I can spell konfusion with a 'k'_

_And I could like it_

_It's to dying in another's arms_

_And why I had to try it_

_It's to Jimmy Eat World_

_And those nights in my car_

_When the first star you see_

_May not be a star_

_I'm not your star_

_Isn't that what you said_

_What you thought this song meant?_"

He smiled and left his hair alone in favor of smoothing the tight black long-sleeved thermal top he was wearing like a shirt. He threaded his belt into his belt loops, still singing without a hitch at all. He was wearing a pair of old-school Jnco "Jail breakers" low on his hips. His only really impressive pair of shoes poked out beneath the tattered bottom hems of said jeans, a pair of designer Dr. Martens with prints of that famous Japanese painting of the waves. He looked delicious.

"_And if this is what it takes_

_Just to laugh with my mistakes_

_And live with what I did to you_

_And all the hell I put you through_

_I always catch the clock; it's 11:11_

_And now you want to talk_

_It's hard not to dream_

_You'll always be my Konstantine_

_My Konstantine._"

"Bravo," Axel mumbled, sitting up groggily.

"I figured you'd wake up. I thought I was getting a tad loud there." He smiled and adjusted his oversized belt-buckle. Never missed a beat.

"So what's with you and potatoes?" Axel inquired, scratching his head in such a way as to elicit some wonderful shudders of pleasure. It wasn't long before Demyx trotted up, making a great deal of noise in his huge jeans, and buried his glassy black fingernails in the redhead's scalp. "Oh… that's so good…"

"Well, let me see," he said thoughtfully, pulling Axel up against his stomach, "I think… yeah. How could I forget that? I had a dog named Potato."

"What did it to deserve such a name?" Axel laughed.

"Well… it was a brown English Bull Terrier."

"English Bull Terrier?"

"Target dog!"

"Oh!" Axel cried in understanding. "So you had a flatiron-head dog and it was brown and you named it potato?"

"Exactly."

"But you said something about throwing the potato, and some guy named Julian…" Axel mumbled, looking up to the young blond for clarification. "Julian's fries or something like that…"

Demyx thought about it.

"I have no idea, Axel. Honestly, I think I just talk randomness…"

"You sounded pretty upset."

"I always do, don't I?" he laughed.

Demyx turned and slumped down on the bed next to Axel, a hand lightly resting on the redhead's cheek.

"You worry about me a lot, don't you?"

"I do," Axel admitted.

"Why?" he asked softly, "Well… I don't have to ask really. You know… you're not all that quiet in your sleep either."

Axel froze, eyes widening in horror.

"I won't die… I promise," Demyx said softly, "I wouldn't die unless something really fucked up happened, and trust me, that won't."

He smiled almost convincingly, but Axel could see a little flicker of doubt in those lovely ocean tide eyes, and he wanted to make it all go away. He pulled the blond close, oblivious to the complaints based around the mussing of a certain person's perfect hair, but they fell silent relatively quickly as the two of them seemed to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. Demyx sighed softly.

"I'm nervous."

"I know. So am I."

"Why are you nervous?" Demyx laughed, looking up only briefly from kissing the line of his lover's pulse.

"I'm going with you."

This time the blond heaved a sigh.

"You can't."

"Why?"

"I know… mom and dad would…"

"They can live with it. They need to accept you for who you are. You're already being a rebellious little shit dressing the way you are. You never wear that stuff."

"I know…" he replied weakly, "But…"

"Maybe they'll come to terms with it. Your bro says I'm famous… I wouldn't know, but maybe they'll think that's pretty cool. I dunno."

"You want to come that bad?"

"Yes."

Demyx's teeth caught an earring in their strong pearly grasp, and he pulled down gently.

"You know that hurts," Axel rumbled. It wouldn't get to be a habit if he could help it.

"I know… I just like needling you sometimes," he laughed, releasing the jewelry. It tinkled musically as it fell back into its original place. "If I had ears like that, I'd totally push chopsticks and stuff through them just to freak people out."

"Well, first step is to get 'em pierced."

"I hate needles."

"I know, but you know what?"

"What…"

"I'll go with you and you can watch me get done first. You'll probably be more comfortable with it if you see me get it done first. It doesn't hurt… much."

Demyx shuddered, "I dunno Ax…"

"Just trust me. If things go over well tonight, we'll go and I'll get my tongue pierced like I always wanted to."

"Yeah… but then it'll hurt when you kiss me…" Demyx said sulkily.

"Alright… how about my lip?"

"That's good… but what will I do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"My ears… like yours."

"Well, we can go up to a four-gauge… but that's a big needle."

"Fine by me just as long as you stay," he laughed, "I don't think I'll be as scared if you're there."

"Alright… I need to get dressed. You can pick out my shit while I'm showering. No problem, right?" Axel chuckled, pushing the blond off his lap, "You're pretty fashion-wise today and it doesn't look like you're color-blind or anything, so please."

"No problem. Just hurry it up, Fire-crotch."

"Hey!" Axel cried indignantly, "Since when were you looking?"

"Since, like, forever…" Demyx jeered, "Come on Axel. You shouldn't put it past me. I _am_ a dirty gay boy."

"You're a fucking virgin, for god's sake!" Axel bellowed, slinking into the bathroom and kicking off his pants and tossing them out the open door.

"True, but it doesn't mean I indulge in certain guilty pleasures from time to time. A boy can dream, you know…"

"Pervert!" Axel laughed, turning on the water.

"You're the one who molests me when you think I'm sleeping!" Demyx shot back.

"Jesus Christ! You weren't asleep?" Axel cried in horror.

"Fuck no! I thought you were going to rape me there for a minute!" The blond laughed, "You should be more careful when you're drunk and horny!"

Bad, bad memories popped up in Axel's head.

"You were so fucking fucked that you couldn't even keep it up!" Demyx taunted again, "And I'd only been around for a week! I totally thought I was going to have to run for my life!"

"Okay, so I had a wonderful combination of blue-balls and whiskey dick. I can't help it! That bitch totally turned me down right at the bar and there was nothing I could do! I had to get it out of my system somehow."

"So wrong!" Demyx cackled. He appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, just watching the redhead go through his routines. "Clothes are picked out."

"I have a favor… call the house and ask Saïx how the dogs are holding up."

"Feh. I forgot about that. Hold on," Demyx muttered.

They'd gotten one of Axel's old friends to apartment-sit for the time being, since they both knew they might be down here for a while, but it was unnerving for the blond since the man didn't really ever show his face, much less talk.

The phone rang twice before he answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey. This is Dem. Um… how are the dogs?"

"They're fine. I made sure they got some time out in the park today," a smooth, monotone voice replied, "Everything's under control for the most part. You'll have to tell Axel that the landlord is being an asshole about the heater though. It's not going to get fixed any time in the near future and he doesn't feel obligated to pay the space heaters."

"Shit," Demyx groaned. "There goes my bonus… well, um… thanks for all the trouble."

"No problem. Axel and I go way back… Enjoy your trip. You don't need to worry about anything."

"Thanks dude." Demyx was really starting to like this guy.

"No problem. When I give you Axel's money back, don't tell him. Just put it in the account, alright?"

Demyx laughed as quietly as he could possibly manage.

"Alright."

"Bye."

"Yeah. See ya later."

Demyx shoved the phone back into his deep pocket and leaned up against the bathroom doorjamb and giggled like a little school-girl.

"What's so funny?" Axel asked instantly.

"I like him," the blond replied. "He's really down to earth."

"You have _no_ idea," Axel shot back. "Anything else?"

"Well… Landlord's being an asshole."

"Short-stuff has always been an asshole. Since when is that different?" Axel grumbled, the mere thought of Ienzo piquing his agitation.

"Well, he's leaving it up to us to pay for the heaters… the space heaters. That and he's not exactly sure when the gas heater will get fixed, the cock."

"Ugh," Axel sighed, making a small attempt to drown himself in the shower. "Whatever. He can go screw himself."

"Amen to that," Demyx laughed, a small smile scrawled across his mobile mouth. "We need to leave soon… I kind of wanted to show up at my parents' house around noon."

"What time is it now?" Axel asked, jumping out of the shower and snagging a towel.

"Like…" Demyx fished his phone out of his pocket once more and flipped it open, glanced at the little digital numbers, scrunching his forehead because he had to squint without his reading glasses. "It's 1:32."

"I slept in," Axel mused absently, pressing past the blond.

He found himself wonderfully pinned against the wall, Demyx's hands running up and down his bare flesh, leaving trails of goose bumps behind them.

"We don't have time for this, I thought," Axel whispered breathlessly.

"Hmm…" Demyx mumbled. Times like this, his voice seemed to drop an entire octave, the nasal quality evaporating like nothing but a memory. "We don't, do we?"

The mask slipped back onto him just as quickly as it had faded and he slinked over to the bed with that weird cat-like grace of his. He landed on the bed heavy on his knees, smiled up at Axel and held up the only pair of pants the redhead owned and couldn't wear boxers with.

"You seriously want me castrated, don't you?" Axel sighed.

"Well, you'll just have to wear tighty-whiteys or nothing at all… your call."

"I don't _own _any of those… they're for fat old guys…"

"You _do_ have boxer briefs though. I saw 'em. Put 'em on…" he mumbled staring at his nails like they were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. "Unless, of course, you want to go commando…"

"Boxer briefs are sounding good right about now, since you're really giving me no choice."

"They're tighty-whiteys so you can't say you don't own any. Go get in em."

Axel obeyed rather placidly and snatched the pants out of Demyx's hands. He smiled, watching the skinny redhead wriggle into the skin-tight black denim. He then held up a long-sleeve tight dark maroon shirt that looked like it was probably his at one point. It seemed a little small for his much more filled-out frame though.

"This should look good. It'll ride on your hips. Put it on, hairball."

"Shut up. Just 'cause you shave every little hair that pops up…"

"You think it's sexy don't you?"

"Naked pussy is okay… I admit… but I still don't know about guys. It's like… immodest," he replied.

"Well, I don't believe in body hair. I'm a swimmer. Old habits die hard, and I do what I must."

Axel pulled on the shirt, surprised at how well it fit. He tried to pull the edges down, but Demyx stopped him, rising to yank at the waist of Axel's jeans. With the waistband of his briefs exposed, Demyx settled it so that just a little of the redhead's pale white skin was exposed. He then casually pulled the ends of the sleeves down and put Axel's thumbs through holes near the hem.

"These are my favorite pants, you know… I love them on you," Demyx mumbled, kneeling and running a hand down the back of Axel's thigh suggestively.

"I like them too… but they take so long to break in," the redhead said with a little shudder. "Shoes?"

"These," Demyx said, pulling a pair of black and red checkered Vans slip-ons and rose with a belt in hand. "I didn't think any of mine would fit you… proof being that I wear like a thirty-two and you're haning out around the twenty-eights. Funny how you can still wear boys' sizes."

"Fat little boys," Axel mused.

"You're just a skeleton, baby," Demyx teased, "But anyway, _do not_ scratch this belt buckle. It's one of my favorites… I'm just lending it to you."

The blond didn't wait, just slid the studded belt into Axel's belt-loops and synched it loose around the redhead's hips. He smiled at the thick black outline of a star the center filled with bright red, encircled in silver.

"Good."

"This is nice…" Axel laughed, "Where do you get this shit?"

"You'd be surprised, the things people will give you when you're dating."

"So you got this…"

"From rich guys who thought I'd stick around longer if they gave me awesome shit like this…" he caressed Axel gently when he saw his lover wince. "You've given me what I need. Not empty gifts. I love you, alright? I don't regret leaving those guys in the dust…"

"Really?"

"Yeah… now let's do something with your crazy hair."

--- ---

"Your Konstantine…?"

"That's who you are… you're mine, love. I wouldn't leave you for the world."

"Konstantine…"


	12. The Showdown

_Nervous... I like this chapter actually... I mean, I've seen shit like this happen before and this is exactly how we all reacted. "No. Go Away! Stop! Ohmygodwhyareyoudoingthistome!" That's how it is... And Axel is being castrated by a belt buckle. OHNOES! _

_Sorry... I'm in a really goofy mood today. Did I kill it? Cause no one really commented on the last few chapters seriously. Be honest with me. I could use the help. (statement made moot over the daytime... My e-mail is really shoddy right about now)_

_Oh, and Zell's inexhaustable wealth is semi-explained here. He's really not an idiot. LoL!_

_Jehovah's Witness... hehe!_

* * *

Demyx hiccupped, moaned cutely and hid his face in his hands.

"Don't be so nervous, kid," Axel soothed, glancing over only momentarily to smile. Just as quickly as he did, though, he shifted his attention back to the road.

"I can't help it… what if they slam the door in my face?"

"I don't think they'd do that. They can't."

"Can we just tell them we're with the Jehovah's Witness first?" Demyx moaned.

"Yeah right, Dem. We'd have better luck telling them we were the king and queen of England. Quit being so skittish," Axel snorted, "I wish it weren't so awkward, but you can't chicken out…"

"I know…" Demyx sighed, hiccupping again painfully, "B-but… it's so scary… I want to see Rose tonight… will you take me to see her, Axel."

"Of course…" he said softly.

"Will you come with me?"

Axel fell into an icy silence.

"Axel?"

"We're almost here…"

Demyx leaned back into his seat, buried his face in his hands again. This was horrifying enough to make him forget about getting an answer. He really didn't want to risk this as much as he needed to, and oh god… what if… he didn't want to think about the twelve-gauge in the closet… if life had continued as normal, it would still be there, staring at the ceiling, ugly as sin.

The car came to a smooth stop just outside the house.

It was still the same brick structure, but now the trim was painted white, there was a new porch, looking like it was probably made of redwood. There was a new garage, and the old one looked like it had been converted into a room… It was like a new place entirely.

"I don't wanna go!" Demyx cried, gripping the seat firmly, the look of horror in his eyes anything but false. He wasn't acting anymore.

"Demyx, don't make me drag you out of this car."

"No! Oh god no!"

Axel reached over gently, placed his hand on the younger man's chest, stroking soothingly.

"Step one: Stop hyperventilating. You're going to pass out."

"Okay," Demyx moaned, taking a noticeable step to calm himself.

"Step two… get out of the car."

"No!" Demyx cried, reverting to the exact state he'd been in before.

"_Demyx_!" Axel barked harshly.

The blond practically squealed in fear.

"Dem… Come on. Your Konstantine really wants you to get over this shit… He loves you very much, but we need to get this done."

Demyx sighed shakily, looking like he was about to cry again.

"You can do it, babe… I know you can… And your belt buckle is castrating me slowly."

This time Demyx laughed, leaned over and pulled the redhead into a crushing hug.

"You're sweet."

"You're sweeter. I'm nothing but a viejo verde," he laughed.

"What?"

"Dirty old man," Axel clarified. "It's probably the only thing I got out of my Spanish classes in high school."

"Oh… that's pretty sad…" Demyx muttered, "I'm sure I'd know a lot more French if I hadn't run…"

"Can we go?" Axel asked hopefully.

Demyx seemed to mull over it for a while, big blue eyes staring blindly out in front of them. He heaved a soft sigh and put his hand on the door handle, his face set in an agonized scowl. He looked like he was glaring at his worst enemy, when what he was really staring down was the innocent interior of a rather high-end vehicle.

"Okay… I can do this…"

He took a deep sighing breath, opened the door and stepped out, leaning drunkenly for a moment. Axel popped out the door quickly, waited for Demyx to close the door and locked the car instantly, earning a dark glare from the blond.

"I'm not taking any chances," Axel teased.

Demyx sighed and turned toward the house, walked gingerly around the front of the car, took Axel's hand in his, but he never actually looked the redhead in the eyes.

"Let's… let's do it."

"Okay."

They walked up the long gravel driveway, the smell of pine-trees and the Inter-costal waterway heavy in the air around them. Demyx seemed both pensive and nostalgic at the same time, his lovely blue eyes scanning every inch of the yard, bottom lip tucked firm beneath his teeth. He seemed to be trying to recall something he couldn't quite remember, and even though his hand was sweaty and he was gripping Axel a little too hard, the redhead didn't release his lover's hand. He was playing the security blanket in one way or another and it would be less than polite to reject the blond.

"Konstantine…?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you come all the way to the door with me?"

"Did you think I was going to stay in the car?"

"Yeah… kind of…"

"I'd never abandon you like that," Axel sighed, pulling Demyx's hand back to kiss the younger man's knuckles. The blond gave the barest smile, picked up his pace. The porch loomed, a strangely ominous thing, but he disregarded that, pulled the screen door back almost casually. He was familiar enough with this place, no doubt.

He stepped up to the door, and this time his grip actually tightened on Axel's hand, if that was possible. The redhead reciprocated it, jade-green eyes filled with worry.

Demyx planted three firm knocks on the white door, stepped back a little. There was a harsh voice and the sound of loafers on hardwood floors and Demyx cringed a little. The door swung wide and a tall, stately man with silvering dirty-blond hair and harsh gray eyes stared down at the two men. Axel imagined that this was probably what Atticus Finch would look like, no matter how the book described him.

The older man shifted his round glasses on his nose and spoke in an unusually soft, dignified tone.

"How can I help you young men?"

Demyx choked, looked back to Axel in utter horror. Obviously he hadn't expected his dad to get the door.

Axel covered.

"We're having some trouble with our car… Check engine light just popped on and we panicked. She's brand new, so it seemed a little weird."

"I see… what is it you have? I might know a little about it," the elder Dincht mumbled, "Mary! Mary, I need you to open up the garage if you would."

"Of course, Darling!" Demyx's mother cried back, "And Robert, Don't do anything that'll put out your back!"

Demyx squeezed his eyes shut, pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Are you alright, son? Go get inside and go to the kitchen. My wife'll get you a tall glass of sweet tea. That should put you to rights."

He stepped down out the door and clapped a hand solidly on Demyx's shoulder, then switched his attention to Axel.

"Uh, yeah… I'll show her to you… it's a Corvette, but it's kind of… well, you'll see."

Axel slipped his hand out of Demyx's grasp and the older man again urged him to go inside and get a drink, then followed Axel down the driveway.

Demyx entered quietly.

"Go ahead and come in, honey. Close the door before all the cold air goes out!"

"Yes ma'am…" Demyx croaked. He was panicking badly. His hands were shaking terribly as he wandered into the kitchen… almost everything was the same… except the little shrine of pictures devoted to himself and Rose… it was eerie and he didn't spend much time looking at it.

"So, young man," his mother said softly, "Let me get you that glass of tea."

"Uh… yes… thank you very much."

She looked the same as he always remembered, but her flaxen hair was streaked with gray now, there were new wrinkles at the corners of her mouth and eyes… she looked strangely old.

"You know," she laughed, setting the glass down in front of him, "You look so much like my son. He was a good boy, but I think… I know we went too hard on him."

"Oh no," Demyx replied absently, stirring the tea with his finger languidly, "He'd probably say you were a little rough, but I don't think he would have wanted you to suffer so much…"

He looked up to her shocked face.

"Sorry… mom…"

"Who are you?" she cried, voice suddenly filled with cold fear, "Who are you and why are you doing this?"

"It's me, mom… Eden…"

"No! No he's dead!" she cried, "Stay away!"

"Ask me, mom… what did I insist my name was before I ran?"

She froze, staring at him more in confusion than fear.

"Remember… I wanted you to call me Demyx… and I called Braig a different name too… Xigbar… And I was really good at swimming and I was team captain for a year… I jumped out the window and broke my legs… I had really bad asthma as a kid, but I eventually grew out of it. I had my… tonsils taken out," at this he rolled his shirt up and pointed to the scar, "when I was eight…"

"How could you…?"

Now she just sounded hurt.

"You used to try to teach me guitar… but I never wanted to learn… I play guitar now, mom. And… you always used to sing me that song… about the ladybugs? I was so little… I can barely remember…"

She looked up to him, still seemingly wavering between belief and acceptance.

"When I was seven, Seifer Almasy threw a rock at my head, and he hit me pretty hard. I came home screaming, remember?" he paused for emphasis, "And um… I had to get… nine stitches. Remember? I was so sad…"

"Eden…" she whispered, staring at the blond youth standing insecurely before her. "It's really you, isn't it? Oh Eden!"

He smiled as his mother leapt into his arms. Last time he saw her he was barely her height. He towered over her almost a foot now. She held him close, sobbing into his shirt clutching him desperately.

"I knew you weren't dead! I tried to tell them but they didn't believe me!"

"Shh…" he soothed, "It's okay, mom… I'm home now."

--- ---

"Well, damn. It's not on any more, but that's really bothering me…"

"It may be because you're still breakin' her in," Demyx's father mumbled, "But I'd keep my eyes peeled if I were you. There may be trouble, just don't panic if there is."

Axel cut the gas and slid out of the driver's seat, hoping he'd given Demyx enough time to work his magic… that is if he even had the balls to say anything.

"I forgot. Bad manners of me. My name is Robert Dincht," he said in his strange soft way.

"Axel Ignatius Brenton, artist at large," Axel said proudly. It didn't hurt to flaunt every now and then.

"Ah!" Robert laughed, "So you're the one? What luck. My son has an obsession with your works. He purchased a piece, I believe… the Thunder Lily, I think it was?"

"A fine piece, that one. It was a joy to paint," Axel beamed, "I almost regret selling it still."

"Did you have business with my son? I have the distinct recollection that you're based in Atlanta," the older man mumbled, fingering the silvery stubble on his chin.

"You're right. About meeting your son…"

"Zell Dincht."

"Yes, actually. Quite the coincidence," Axel laughed, still lying through his teeth, "He's commissioned me."

"Ah, I see. This must have been your payment, no doubt?" the older man queried, tapping the hood of the beautiful vehicle.

"Among other things. It's a lot more than I deserve. Trust me," Axel sighed.

"I'm not sure. You're quite talented," the elder Dincht said distractedly, "So, shall we go retrieve your companion?"

"Yeah. I wonder what he thinks he's doing. We're going to be late for a meeting if he doesn't hurry his scrawny butt out here."

"Hmm…"

They fell into step coming back up to the house.

"So um…"

"You're probably wondering how my son came by so much wealth," Robert stated simply.

"A little… not to be rude."

"It's fine. He's done well for himself. He's a brilliant man, actually. He graduated school early and now he helps design aircraft for the military."

"De… He never told me that," Axel slipped, trying not to sound suspicious. He got a hard gray eye, but it didn't seem to be a look of suspicion.

"Yes. He's created quite a few successful prototypes. He also designed some sort of protection program for computers or something of that sort. He caims it was something that was more of a mistake, but I'm not in depth. That program is where the vast majority of his wealth has sprung from."

Axel whistled. "He really didn't seem the type to me."

"He's silly. His brother was much the same."

"He… has a brother."

"_Had_," the man said coldly. They descended into an uncomfortable silence until they finally reached the door. "You can come in if you like."

"Thanks…"

They stepped in and Axel caught sight of a very plush living room with big leather couches and stark white carpet. Cherry wood floors in the hall and kitchen/dining room area set off the carpet in a lovely way. There were lots of different shades of red and even more white. Demyx's mother sat in one of the leather couches, talking animatedly to Demyx who was sitting opposite of her with his back to the other men. Both of them sounded really excited, and there were tears in his mother's violently cerulean eyes.

Axel could see where the family resemblance had come from. He may have been tall and lanky like his father, but his face, his eyes most of all, were like the trademark-stamp of his mother.

"Mary?"

"Oh Robert! Robert, come here!" she cried, leaping up from her seat and running to her husband's side, pulling him over to Demyx who stood nervously. "Robert, it's Eden! Our Eden has come home!"

"Mary… what are you thinking? Leave this poor boy be," Robert sighed.

"No dad… really…" Demyx half-whispered, a lopsided grin on his face. He looked like he was about to run screaming any minute.

"No… You… Who are you? Why have you done this?" the elder Dincht sneered, the polite veneer suddenly washed away. He was _pissed_.

"Demyx. Let's go," Axel said softly, "That's enough for today."

The blond looked up to him with defeated, teary eyes.

"I'm… I'm not going to try to convince you dad…"

"Don't you dare call me that, you fake!"

"… so I just want to say, I'm sorry I hurt you so badly… I never meant to be so… so fucked up."

"Eden! Don't say such terrible things!"

"Mary!"

Axel cringed, feeling horribly out of place. He slinked up behind Demyx, standing far enough that it wouldn't look strange but he could at least feel close to his lover.

"I'm gonna go now… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ever come here."

This time a tinge of bitterness that could even become anger if it were left to its own devices.

"Oh Eden! Don't go!"

"Did Zell put you up to this? How much did he pay you? The car was enough?"

"No, dad," Demyx sighed shakily, "I decided to come on my own. The car was a gift. I was supposed to be your Christmas gift from him, I guess… I'm sorry I disappointed you. I guess I am nothing but a useless fag after all. I still like boys, you know."

He ruffled his hair nervously and took Axel's hand, walking silently toward the door.

"Eden…" his father called hoarsely. "I'm sorry…"

"It's okay. I forgave you a long time ago," Demyx replied coolly. "Have Zell tell me if you want to see me again."

"I will…" the elder Dincht replied.

They left, and as soon as they reached the first stop sign, Axel looked to his leaky faucet of a boyfriend and smiled.

"That went well…"

Demyx launched himself onto Axel and kissed him deeply.

A vehement agreement.


	13. First Strike

_I know at some point you've all heard of the theory that says bad luck strikes in 3s, right? Well... I love that idea and I love the idea that some more perceptive individuals might have the ability to change it._

_Anyway, that's more than I should tell you really. _

_So they go out and hit the town just for fun, they do!_

* * *

As promised, after a moment of rest back at the hotel, the two hit the town and Axel thoroughly gorged himself on the sheer volume of galleries that offered themselves. There was everything from the wild and eccentric, to modern concepts, to the most traditional of restrictions. He dragged his lover with him, and by the time they'd reached the last gallery they were discussing color theory and why the hell the Mona Lisa has no eyebrows.

"So… enough of this shit. Needles. I know the best place," Demyx said boldly, taking the lead.

"Really?" Axel laughed, "What should I get?"

"Lip. You promised," Demyx replied instantly.

"I mean other than that," Axel pushed, "Should I get another tattoo?"

"It would have to be small or you'll never get it finished."

"I know… Maybe I'll get 'Demyx was here' tattooed on my ass in calligraphy."

"Not funny," Demyx huffed.

"Alright, no tattoos tonight," the redhead laughed, "But I am getting my lip pierced, and if I do, you _have_ to get something done."

"I guess."

They walked in relative quite of night, the smell of cigarette smoke from clubs and all manner of restaurants pooling in the narrow streets. The walked to a delta in the road where a big library stood majestically and a triangle shaped fountain danced.

"We can go play in that, you know," Demyx laughed, "I forgot about that."

"Really?"

"How about we do that before we drive off?"

Axel nodded, and the blond trotted forward, turning to smile over his shoulder _and he sprang forward like a gazelle, graceful, beautiful… completely fucking oblivious to the car blazing forward. And he can't do anything. Axel can't do a fucking thing to stop him… The body in his arms is crushed beyond saving, and still that beautiful blond is smiling…_

"Dem!" Axel cried, throwing himself forward. He grasped the blond around the waist and yanked him back just as the black sedan with the distracted business man at the helm careened past. Demyx cried out in shock and fear, whirled and clung to his lover.

"Jesus Christ!" he whispered hoarsely against the redhead's neck.

Axel could feel the younger man's heart beating a rapid tattoo against his chest. He clung tight, laughing in that particular way that usually conveyed that he was extremely frightened or nervous.

"I just almost died," he blurted between laughing fits.

"Yeah…"

It was all Axel could manage. He'd seen it happen… and he changed it…

"Uh… maybe… maybe we should…"

"No… let's go to the fountain…" Axel said softly, "And this time we look before we leap, right?"

"Yeah!" Demyx laughed, planting a rough kiss on the redhead's cheek before they scanned the road for any potential danger.

--- ---

"You ready?" the piercing artist asked, looking down into bright jade pools.

"As ever," Axel affirmed, gripping Demyx's hand gently.

The blond watched in a combination of fascination and horror as the piercing guy leaned down and pulled Axel's lip out, pressing the tip of the needle against the little purple dot he'd drawn. He moved in a way that looked agonizingly slow, pressing the needle up through, but Axel didn't even look like he noticed it until it broke all the way though. Only then he winced a little.

"Alright… just hang out like that for a second. We need to put the ring in next."

Demyx watched the guy change his gloves, then turn back with a pair of pliers and a relatively straightened out captive ball ring. He placed the pliers on a medical tray and took the needle's plastic base in his fingers, lined up the tip of the ring with the end of the needle and pinched Axel's lip between his ring-finger and pinky.

"This will hurt a bit…"

The needle descended, followed closely by the ring into swollen flesh. Axel grimaced a little, but it really didn't seem to bother him immensely. The needle was instantly tossed into the trash.

"Okay. Hold a sec."

The artist busied himself changing gloves again. Demyx leaned down silently and kissed Axel's cheek, eliciting a smile from the redhead. They had resumed their original positions by the time the piercing artist had turned around again.

Using the pliers, he gently clamped the earring ball in place and stepped back to survey the finished product for a moment.

"All done. Have a look," the guy beamed, handing Axel a mirror.

The redhead sat up, staring at reflection in satisfaction.

"Don't touch it too much for the next few days. This is a topical disinfectant," the piercing guy explained, pressing a bottle of Bactine into Axel's hand, "Put it on the outside a few times a day with a cotton ball. When you get out of here, go buy yourself a bottle of Listerine. You'll want to use it after eating, drinking, kissing, etcetera. Try not to take out the jewelry for a few months. The ring is big enough that if it gets swollen it won't be too tight. Hope you enjoy it."

"Thanks," Axel said experimentally. It hurt, but not too badly.

"Oh yeah, if you don't like Listerine, salt-water works too… And as for your friend, he's getting his ears done, right?"

Demyx nodded, still looking a little nervous.

"Alright."

"I hope it's okay if I stay…" Axel said softly.

"Of course. He looks like he could use you here," the piercing artist laughed, "So what are you looking to do?"

"Um… I think I want to pierce them and gauge later."

"Not always a good idea… but it can be done. What size are you looking to go to?"

He looked up to Axel.

"He's not real decided yet, but I think starting small would be good."

"Alright… I'll pierce you at a fourteen and you can work up from there. Fourteen is a hollow needle and you're likely to feel it a lot more than with a normal eighteen."

"Okay…"

"You sure you want to do this?"

"Yes."

"Positive?"

Demyx nodded and sat down in the chair, let the artist arrange his head, impatiently brushing stray hair out of the way. Axel's hand slid warm into the blond's and he smiled. This wouldn't be all that bad.

--- ---

Demyx's ears hurt a little, but he couldn't get enough of himself, stopping to admire his reflection in windowpanes and just about anything that gave a decent reflection. He was extremely satisfied, and the purple titanium rings just looked awesome.

The lady at the grocery-store checkout eyeballed them suspiciously for a moment, and then laughed.

"New piercings?"

"Fresh as they can be," Axel replied, his lip pouting a little unconsciously. It was a little swollen and red around the new hole, but otherwise it looked great.

"You too?"

"Yep," Demyx replied.

"Did it hurt? Just out of curiosity…"

"Not really," both replied at the same time, then laughed.

"Jinx!" Demyx called loudly.

"That's so childish," Axel scolded, sounding a tad scorned.

"Stop whining, you, or I'll kiss you and it'll hurt and you'll be a sad boy then, won't you?" Demyx teased, handing the cashier a wad of singles that he'd fished out of his pocket. She counted it out and handed him his change.

"You two have a good night!"

"You too," Axel said politely.

They walked out arm-in-arm.

"Do you want to pick up some booze?" Demyx asked suddenly.

"You're still too young," Axel mumbled disapprovingly.

"Never stopped me before," the blond laughed, punching his lover in the shoulder playfully.

Axel gave.

"Alright. Do you know anywhere nearby?"

"Yep."

--- ---

Axel laughed, holding his lover close. A handle of Bombay Sapphire rests between them. They're drunk as all hell.

"My head hurts!" Demyx giggled, scooting up closer and planting his chin on Axel's chest. The redhead smiles and tries to kiss Demyx's forehead, but it hurts.

"Ow!" he cries, and the laughing starts up all over again.


	14. Full Circle

_Okay. It all goes downhill from here... if only for a little while. Right now, I have living arrangements with someone who can be qualified as insane, it's funny how she goes through cycles... it's a roller coaster. She's happy one minute and then deeply depressed the next, but usually there's a month or two between the deeps. Right now, Axel is straying into the darker side of all this._

_There's also some extra info in this chapter that would probably change the genre, but I think it's not prevalent enough to change anything over. I had this planned, but I honestly didn't know if I wanted to make it obvious. I want to make it obvious, though, because that'll help clarify a lot of the stuff I impart in later chapters._

_My E-mail is on the blink right now, sadly, so if you want to contact me, AIM me at XragXdollXloverX_

_I'm actually at chapter 16 now, but I'm not sure if I want to go ahead and post it all just yet... and I really didn't intend to post the first strike against them in lucky chapter 13. Haha! And don't hesitate to review, guys. It just makes me want to write more! _

* * *

Axel woke with a bad hangover and the bed was cold.

"Demyx?" he called, ignoring the pounding agony it incited.

"In the bathroom," he replied, voice suitably low. He seemed okay, but he was wincing and rubbing Bactine into his sore ears. "They hurt still…"

"Yeah… just leave them alone for a little bit and you'll forget about it."

"You need to clean your lip," Demyx stated, slumping down onto the bed, "You have crusties. And really bad breath."

"Screw you, Dem," Axel laughed.

"Just saying," the blond giggled, giving his lover a one-shouldered shrug.

Axel rolled up into a sitting position and yawned, clutching his throbbing head.

"I'm going to get some food… um… you want me to pick something up for the pain?"

"Nah. How long have you been up?"

"Since early. I'm mostly recovered now," Demyx replied quietly. "Anyway… what did you dream about last night? You were crying hard enough to wake me up, and I was pretty fuckin' out of it."

Axel thought about it, but he couldn't dredge up much other than the faint memory of vast amounts of blood and a very terrible grin.

"I don't remember. Sorry."

"It's alright, viejo verde. You probably just flipped after all the pizza and m&m's."

"That'll do it."

Demyx jumped off the bed, pulled on a pair of dirty jeans and an ancient t-shirt that he'd probably had all his life, slinked out the door with a little wave.

Axel laid there for a long while just contemplating what was next. Well, he needed to get his lip patched up first of all. He could feel it throbbing with a dull ache if he really thought about it, and a searching finger returned with the tip coated in a fine dust of amber. He knew it was probably just dried up plasma. He'd never had a piercing that bled, and indeed, he'd had quite a few, though many of them had to be removed over the course of several years. Some were just plain unattractive; some were weird, uncomfortable even; most were rejected by his body after a few months.

The faint smell of turpentine caught him off guard.

How the hell did that get here?

Oh the bitterness it inspired was amazing.

He rolled out of his bed and washed his face, rubbed the sterilizing agents into his stinging new hole, washed out his dusty-tasting mouth with pain in a bottle. There wasn't much pause between the sink and the shower. He turned the water on hot enough to scald his skin to a boiled pink color, stood under it until he felt like he was going to suffocate. He turned off the water, took a few deep breaths, and then turned it back on, cold. Straight-from-a-glacier, below-freezing kind of cold, and his skin flared to a bright red at this new abuse. He sighed.

After a few more minutes he felt like he was starting to slip into a hypothermic state, turned the heat back up again and started on his regular routines. Insanity… it really just kind of sucked sometimes. At least he thought he could be insane. There was no real way of knowing… but the goggle eyed scars that puckered up the lengths of his arms, his inner thighs, scars burned there from the angry red tips of cigarettes… they reminded him of who he really was, or maybe just who he had been. The lines that marked abuses beyond reckoning that hid themselves in the strangest places. The memories of nearly retching up his own innards when he took all the pills…

At least they didn't have him on lithium any more.

He figured he was fine. They told him he was fine, really.

But the turpentine haunted him.

Turpentine chasers, to be exact.

They tasted like so much shit, and they were acrid, poisonous, and painful, to say the least… but it made the other pains go away.

He'd done it before and he'd probably do it again.

"Disturbed" is for pussies.

"Totally fucking insane" is for the hard core, and at one point, he was.

He remembers what nut-house walls look like. The kind with the pads on them. He considered getting some of those walls for his bedroom when he got home, but the painting… they showed him how to paint.

And to say the least, it kept him grounded, calm, docile even.

Right now he could really use a shot of that pink shit.

Funny how the past always seemed to catch up with him….

But dying, killing oneself with such slow, steady hands… it was fucking brilliant. Exquisite. To see one's own soul evacuate: exhaled like a fine mist to disperse and return to the endless ether from which all sentient things are born. Axel had always known he could see things that no one else could, and that's why he painted, and the paintings soothed the burning fever in his brain.

He didn't really realize it, but he was a clairvoyant of sorts.

He remembered the first time he met his old friend Saïx, the golden eyed man with the blue hair and the terrible scar, holding out a notebook, and without a word Axel took it. Saïx had known, confined within the same walls. He understood what was driving the redhead mad.

Axel remembered the sudden pain and the sensations of drowning, the lines of fire on his wrists, slicing upward and he cried for the fear of it. He hurled the notebook away from him.

Saïx had looked terribly confused.

"_What did you see?"_

"_A woman… in the bath… she killed herself and then her husband found her. He panicked. He cut her up into pieces and buried her all over the city…"_

At that, he remembered Saïx blanched, making his porcelain skin suddenly look like fresh paper. He explained that the woman was still alive.

Two months later, everything happened exactly as he saw it.

Axel said he was just perceptive, just like Saïx said.

Only one of them really knew any better.

So Saïx became a writer: typing, typing, typing these volumes of books that no one really understood, and he tried to live with the torment of seeing the past like a movie every time he touched a table or a glass or a door-handle. And Axel… Axel became a painter: he abused the canvases for all the terrible things that dreams told him. Axel only ever saw things in his waking when Saïx influenced it. He was innocent.

They were both brilliantly and terribly perceptive.

By anyone else's standards… they were just…

Insane. Only mildly on Saïx's part though.

And for a long time, Axel was able to tune all of it out.

Not any more.

--- ---

Demyx came back only to see his lover scribbling in his sketchbook with a thick silvery-black graphite stick, hand blazing furiously over the page. These things were very abstract, violent, dark. Demyx had seen them before. It only seemed like Axel drew when he was in some sort of mental anguish or turmoil.

He placed the box of doughnuts he'd sought out on the bed and plopped down next to the scribbling redhead who barely even seemed to notice he was there.

"Hey, love. What're you drawing?"

"You…" Axel sighed, "How I feel when I think of loosing you."

Demyx paused awkwardly.

"I'll take you to see your girl today… but I can't go in there," the artist said softly, setting his notebook aside, "I'm afraid of cemeteries."

"Why?" Demyx inquired evenly.

"It's called Coimetrophobia. I also have Cleithrophobia… irrational fear of being locked in tight spaces."

"Any others?"

"Doraphobia."

"What's that?"

"The fear of animal skins. I can't stand them."

"You're fine with leather…"

"No… I mean like mink… with the head and…"

Axel shuddered and tossed his drawing stuff away to grad the younger man.

"It's just scary."

"I know." Demyx soothed, running his hands though his love's thick red hair. "Calm down. I won't make you touch any dead fur any time soon."

He made a mental note to toss the fur collar that went with his jacket.

"Anyway, I have food… granted it's not the most healthy thing ever, but you need to get fat."

"What?"

"Krispy Kreme!" Demyx laughed, popping the box open and selecting a dough ring to munch on.

"You're still four at heart, aren't you?" Axel mumbled, a smile just barely tugging at his lips.

"Hurry up!" Demyx ordered around a disgustingly sweet mouthful, "They won't be warm forever. I waited until that light on the sign came on."

"You're pathetic," Axel laughed, "But I love you for it."

"Damn skippy, y' do!"

--- ---

Demyx left Axel sitting moodily in the car. He didn't have to come if he really didn't want to.

Softly he padded toward the brick arch with the wrought-iron gates, blue eyes staring up at the big letters. It would have been strange if he'd not known it was there, a huge, ancient cemetery in the middle of a booming urban area, but he'd known of its existence for many years, and now he knew it was Rose's final destination.

There were two graves he needed to visit, and coincidentally, they were both side-by-side.

He'd opted to keep his new life, talking on the phone with his parents. They'd understood completely. It would be too much stress for him, and really, he considered that life over anyway. He was a new creature, to say the least.

He followed the rows, passing headstone after headstone until finally, he came to the one, and oddly enough, there was already someone sitting in front of the one that should have been his.

Demyx knelt quietly in front of Rose's plot and placed a single crimson bloom on the grass.

"Sorry, love," he said softly, "I didn't want to hurt you."

The man kneeling at Demyx's grave looked up, and the blond nearly had a heart attack. The scarred cheek, the eye patch, the long black hair… well… his hair was much, much longer now, probably terminating at his hips and it was pulled back into a tight pony tail, displaying lines of silver streaks, but there was no mistaking. It was Xigbar, alright… and he really looked older now.

"Who are you, kid?" he rumbled. "I hope you don't intend to mess with her stone or I'll kick your ass up between your shoulder blades."

Confirmed.

"Hey Xiggy. Long time no see," Demyx said boldly, "Didn't think your champ swimmer died on ya, did you?"

"You sorry sonuvabitch," the older man growled, "I'm gonna—"

He was abruptly cut off when Demyx started singing the time warp. He then sat down with a sad smile on his face.

"Sorry you banged your elbow up when my dad threw you out. Do you still have the scar? I still have mine," and with that he pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and showed the older man the nine jagged scars on his wrists. Perfect proof, without a doubt.

"Jesus fucking Mary…" he breathed, reaching out numbly to touch Demyx's pale cheek.

"Last I checked they were son and mother respectively. That would be incest," Demyx replied in a smart-ass tone. "How you been, you big idiot?"

He found himself on his back all of a sudden, and he smiled softly, holding his old friend against him lovingly. Xigbar was laughing and crying all at the same time, planting a rough kiss on Demyx's lips just like the old days.

"Hey! Slow down, there, killer. I've got a boyfriend!"

"So do I… but oh holy hell! You're still alive!" he laughed, then he fell into silence, climbing off of the younger man, single gold eye sparkling with a terrible sadness. "I wish Rose had held on longer."

"So do I…" Demyx sighed.

"So… How about we go talk in a better setting?"

"Sounds like a plan," Demyx chuckled.


	15. For Sparta!

_Lord... this chapter... There's drug and alcohol use as well as a vast amount of language in this chapter... as well as a failed attempt to... heehee... well... you know..._

_I really don't know what to say... um... right now I'm not getting your e-mails... I think it's an FF problem, so I'm not going to bother with it... if you do want to talk to me though, is my e-mail, and you can also AIM me at XragXdollXloverX which is the name I use most often. I live online and I love talking, so feel free to hit me up whenever you want. _

* * *

Of course, Demyx didn't forget his Axel.

He and Xigbar took Axel to a local tea-brewer and the two caught up while the redhead enjoyed an orange-clove cigarette and a good cup of hand-made masala chai. Their discussions were pretty funny, the chatter about childhood friends and what they were doing now. It didn't take long before Demyx insisted that he needed to know who Xigbar's current significant other happened to be, and ironically enough, the guy was a sculptural artist with a green thumb that Axel had actually met before.

Marluxia Rousse was kind, if not rather fruity. He lavished all kinds of attention on Axel as soon as he arrived speaking a language the other two couldn't make heads of tails of, but Axel seemed to speak it just as fluently.

"So, I was thinking that maybe if I pushed the envelope, I could put out some more avant-garde pieces that will make those peons at Savannah just drool."

"I've been thinking of it too. A few groundlings from Chicago took a look at a few of your pieces at my last showing at the Trade Wind, and I think they were pretty blown out of the water."

"Speak English, you two?" Demyx asked pitifully, staring up at Axel with the "what the fuck are you saying" eyes.

"Sorry… I just told him some idiots who don't know their heads from their asses saw one of his pieces and practically did back flips."

Marluxia laughed, a strangely malicious sound coming from a man with pink hair and an eye for begonias and orchids. He was interesting to say the least. Axel wouldn't have even given the guy's work the time of day if he hadn't met the mind behind it.

"So, I was wondering, darling," Marluxia said softly, violently blue eyes pinning Demyx with a sultry gaze, "I was wondering if you and your lover might drop by my place. I just _have_ to escape my studio and get in some good social time."

"Sounds pretty good to me," Demyx replied casually, casting a glance to Axel, "How about you, love?"

"I'm interested enough," Axel replied, just as suavely as he could manage, "When and where?"

--- ---

Marluxia's place was a typical Keys styled house, relatively small, but situated on a huge waterfront lot. He had apparently lived in it all of his life and adamantly refused to sell it because of its great worth and sentimental value.

"Welcome to my world," he said dramatically as Axel and Demyx hopped out of the car. Xigbar arrived soon thereafter and they all got the big tour.

The house had a big, low-lying studio in back with a forge and a few kilns for whatever he would need to make in the future, and among other things, he kept an extensive selection of hand-made swords, axes, and other such strange weaponry. If it were anyone else, they probably would have thought he was insane. He hefted a big battle-scythe like it was nothing, showing it off for the other three men, but Axel seemed to be lost in a set of razor-sharp hoops.

"They're called chakram," Marluxia explained, "They originated in India, like the katars."

He pointed to a strange item that looked like a mix between a dagger and a sword, but quickly returned his attention to the chakram on their rack. He picked one up by the inner rim and placed it in Axel's hand.

"Please resist the urge to touch the outer rim," he laughed, indicating the razor edge, "Now, these are primarily throwing weapons, but you can use them at close range… I could show you, if you like."

"That's alright… but they are beautiful," Axel acknowledged, admiring the awesome craftsmanship. Demyx seemed a little jealous; he was not really interested in weapons and violence, as it were.

After a few offhanded comments by Xigbar, they were able to move into the house.

Despite a relatively humble living, Marluxia had a talent for gardening, decoration, and almost everything he needed to keep the place just plain enchanting. Vines, flowers, and all manner of green things were living in and around the house.

Xigbar ushered them into the living room and at Marluxia's hand, they were all mostly drunk within an hour, laughing at anything and everything that happened to pop up. A few messy kisses between Axel and Marluxia were shared, and more alcohol was thrown into the mix. Xigbar and Demyx egged the spectacle on, and at some point, Axel was stripped of his shirt and Marluxia had lost his coat and his shirt as well. They were well on the way to stripping the rest of the way when Xigbar vanished into a back room and emerged a few minutes later with a generously sized baggie of greens and a bong.

As much as Axel drank, he wasn't too big on smoking anything other than tobacco. At this point, he really didn't give a shit, though, as he was already pretty plastered.

Before he knew it, Demyx was teaching him how to inhale properly.

"Hold it! Hold it, loff," he cried, his words only slightly slurred thanks to a newly bolstered alcohol tolerance, "'S not like a cigarette. You gotta hold it."

"Shit," Axel mumbled, "It tastes like pine-sol."

"Fuck that! Just smoke it!" Xigbar laughed, "It's not the taste, it's the high, man!"

"This is the good shit, Braig," Marluxia laughed, "Did we grow this?"

"Yep," Xigbar replied, "'N' don't call me Braig. Xigbar. Xiggy for short!"

"Riiiight," Marluxia mumbled, packing his pipe.

Axel smoked his joint, trying not to displease Demyx most of the time, but he still added a few comments in, and when Axel started worrying about burning his fingers, the blond casually snipped it and carefully ground it out in an ashtray. Axel was horrified when Demyx then popped the roach in his mouth and swallowed. Xigbar instantly burst into raucous laughter.

"I didn't teach you that!" he roared.

"What the fuck was that?" Marluxia inquired.

"Never let good bud go to waste," Demyx explained with a shrug.

The night continued on as they just got more and more fucked up, and Axel lay in Demyx's lap, slipping into comfortable oblivion as the blond's hands searched every part of his anatomy. He couldn't possibly be more happy. The room was very, very quiet now, Marluxia content just to watch the light and noise the TV created, but not actually following what was really happening. Xigbar was leaving a monster of a love-bite on the pink-haired man's collar bones.

"You guys…" Marluxia mumbled, "You guys can have the spare room tonight."

"Yeah?" Demyx replied, more for the sake of making a noise than anything else. He was _gone_.

"Black door."

"Alright," the blond said softly, shaking Axel a little.

The redhead moaned, but he rose at Demyx's insistence, and they wandered back down the hall to a black door, slipped into the room. Axel fell back on the queen-size bed, and didn't complain when Demyx was instantly on top of him, his mouth latched on to the redhead's thin neck, one hand bracing him while the other slid down Axel's pants.

The redhead moaned, suddenly uncomfortable in his tight pants. He reached up and closed a hand half around Demyx's neck tight enough to hinder his breathing, slung a leg over the blond's hips and grasped the solid lump forming in the younger man's pants. The blond gasped and followed up with a gravelly moan when the redhead's hands slipped away again.

He paused a moment and then stood, pulling Axel roughly up with him, latching onto and dominating the redhead's mouth mercilessly. He drove his tongue into Axel's mouth, grinding his gorgeous hips hard against Axel's boney ones, elicited a hot moan from the redhead. He pulled back gasping.

"Bend over," Demyx ordered, turning Axel roughly, "For Sparta!"

And then, Axel knew they should never have gone to see _300_.

--- ---

After long, agonizing moments of confusion and a general lack of knowledge of exactly how to put what was wanted where it was needed and Axel's desperate bids for freedom, they finally gave up, and "Sparta" conquered nothing.

Demyx passed out, and Axel, as always, was left awake and unsure of what to do next. He watched his lover's chest rise and fall in the little slivers of moonlight that managed to press through the curtains. Silently, gently, he crept up beside and clung close to the blond, laying his head on that lovely, strong chest. He was finally starting to see past the haze of the alcohol and the weed, and now he could enjoy this. He smiled and counted his lover's heartbeats until he finally drifted off.


	16. Discord

_More dreams? Ho shit!_

_Yes, I cuss like there's no tomorrow and I really can't stop myself... err... I need to tell you, I'll probably be gone all this weekend. No updates, this means... so I figured I'd put two in tonight... and this chapter is short so it's all good... hope y'all enjoy it. If you don't it's never too late to go back and rewrite completely. I'm serious. If the major consensus is that the past few chapters sucked, you can get me to go back and revise it entirely..._

_And I hate to burst your little bubbles... but someone is going to die... and to tell you the truth, I'm still not sure which. The roulette isn't over just yet. It may turn out that I change my mind even... but who knows... things are still very up in the air. You may be able to sway me one way or another, but in the end, it's probably not going to be a happy story... Which makes me sad..._

_Anyway, enough of my rambling. Reviewers... I love you all._

* * *

Mahogany always elicited the most pleasing sound. That was his consensus, at least.

"Soft, dark woods resonate better," Demyx said softly, his fingers working smooth and soft on the cool brass strings, "And it's even better that this is all solid… where did you get it?"

"A long time ago from a friend," Axel replied, voice unusually hushed. These moments sooth the beast in him.

"This is a beautiful guitar… does it have a name yet?"

"No…"

"Well… let's see… it's a Marten…" Demyx laughed appreciatively, "And a classic Dreadnought… what would be a good name here…"

"Herman," Axel said with a wicked grin.

Demyx nodded, "Alright. Herman Marten it is."

_A nice memory…_

_And that's the exact one he's thinking of. Axel can tell because when Demyx remembers that moment, he smiles like he's being held. It's the memory of one of those moments where everything was perfect. A moment where they had forgotten the circumstances and the problems that surrounded them…_

_And now he lies there, looking up to the sunset streaked sky with such forlorn eyes._

_Life is bleeding out of him slowly, the little hole in his side is so innocent-looking, but his blood is black like an oil-slick on the pavement. It doesn't hurt though. Mercy found him at the end of a pistol's philistine muzzle._

"_I wish… I wish you were here…" he whispers, face ashen white. "I wish I could have died in your arms tonight."_

_And the comet he's been waiting for blinks into view. He smiles. Only for a moment, though, because his body goes limp like a rag-doll._

_And there was so much blood, and that grin… the man who held the gun was grinning like a shark. It haunts him. The pain is unbearable._

"_Bang."_

Axel wakes with an involuntary cry, and someone's arms are vise-tight around his waist, he claws desperately to get away, but he's shaken from his panic by Demyx's sleep smoothed, soft voice.

"Hey… Hey, it's alright, love… I'm here…"

It's uncomfortably dark and this place is unfamiliar, but he can see the faint glimmer of blue and he presses himself as close as he can be short of crawling inside the other man.

"Hey… it's okay, love," he says shakily, "You scared me…"

"I'm sorry…" Axel barely manages to whisper.

Demyx sighs and buries his furrowed brow in the forest of red peaks of his lover's hair. They'd spoken of these things… the insanity. Axel told him how bad it could get, but this just scared him terribly… seeing it in person. Demyx didn't care what happened to him… he just wanted the one he'd fallen so hard for to be happy.

"_Now I wish I had a parachute_

'_Cause I'm fallin' bad for you_

_And I can see the ground approachin' now_

_But I'm not sure what to do_

_Oh, I feel like a piñata _

_Once you take a swing at me_

_If you could just crack the shell open_

_I think inside you would find something sweet…_"

Axel sighs. Demyx is relieved. It seems like the beast in his lover's head calms when there's music in the air, and though his voice is still shaky, and he's terribly unsure of all that's happening, he sings until Axel finally falls asleep again. For some reason, those haunting lyrics return to him.

_I heard you fell into a rabbit hole_

_Covered yourself up in snow_

_Baby, tell me, where'd you go_

_For days and days?_

"No crack for you. You're trippy enough without it," he whispers to his unconscious lover. "What am I going to do with you?"


	17. Lamb

_Well... I went to a wedding... got drunk... partied... danced with the bride... all that good stuff. I shook my ass to "My Hips Don't Lie" and "Fergilicious" and went home with my eleven year-old-cousin, watched John Tucker Must Die until about 2:30 in the morning, finally sobering up... then passed out on the couch... went home the next day, made cheesecake, went to sleep, woke up this morning, tested, went to college, came home with about five tons of backlogged Ney York Times and the remnants of the cheesecake... then I wrote this._

_Yeah. I bet you were wondering what that had to do with anything! XD Anyway... I now have Muse "Absolution" and My Chemical Romance "Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge" to keep me busy, as well as Samuri X: Trust and Betrayal to inspire. You can already see the effects of the Muse on this._

_Hopefully this turned out better than I think it did. I'm still feeling a little meh on where to take this. I didn't feel like dragging out the week... and I know it's not December, but Christmas is always shitty for me, and I want to make it shitty for them while I'm still in the mood... I ranted. Sorry._

_Anyway, the confession and the rules of the game appear here. But the Luna Diviner will help make things even more clear later. He's cool like that. Think about the title for a little while before you read this._

* * *

Axel lay there, silent, awake long before Demyx would rise, and he knew he had to do something. This was his mission. He had to change fate, and as hard as it would be, he had to succeed. He'd pay any price. He'd throw away all human ambition; he would rip out his own heart if it clouded his vision. He had to protect this one beautiful creature he'd discovered: the butterfly in the tempest.

And he thought: _I am going to die._

He felt like a flame on the very end of a candle, looking down to his lover, the water that was slowly rising around the wax, ready to drown him. He was going to die at the hands of the very thing he fell in love with and said individual had no clue.

"You will be the death of me."

--- ---

Saïx stared at the guitar with big, bright eyes so amber that they looked gold. He couldn't understand the instrument, but it continued to call to him endlessly. Zipporah whined for attention, but she went unheard for the most part. Saïx was much too busy listening to the siren call of the instrument in its case, lilting like laughter but also moaning deep down in its hollow heart.

He moved forward cautiously, popped each of five latches and lifted the top away from the case. The instrument seemed to hum in anticipation of his touch. He reached down, caressed the strings, and it came to him.

_A man strumming the strings. He has bright fiery hair much like Axel's, but it's longer, pulled back into a ponytail trailing down his back like a river of flames. His eyes were violent green as well, but more of an antifreeze shade than Axel's more tame jade. He has bright red scars tracing the lines of his cheekbones. He's pale too… a lovely man._

_He plays with a look of the utmost concentration, but soon he's interrupted by a loud cry. He looks up and smiles softly._

"_Axel, yo!" he laughs, "Come here kid!"_

_And Saïx finds himself smiling as he sees Axel, probably only six or seven years old with a massive grin and huge, bright eyes. He runs up and catches the older man's face in his little hands._

"_Brother, Brother!" Axel cried, "Mommy wants you!"_

"_Alright, kid. I'll be there in a minute."_

"_But Reeeennoooo!" Axel whined._

"_Alright, aright. Go get my case."_

_And with that, the vision moved forward through time, and Axel sat sadly next to the guitar, his hands running up and down the strings softly. He looked like he was probably thirteen or fourteen here, and there was a terrible sadness in his eyes. It was obvious. There was no needed explanation._

_Death never requires it._

_Saïx knew Axel had experienced great pain, but not something like this. And suddenly, Axel looked up at him, confusion in his eyes._

"_Who are you?"_

_Saïx was a little shocked, but more so, he was bewildered. There was no one else in the room._

"_I asked who you are…"_

_Saïx pointed to himself experimentally, forcing a projection of himself forward into the dream._

"_Yeah… you."_

"_I had no idea how strong you really are…"_

_This was no dream._

"_What?"_

"_Someday you'll meet me again. Be strong, Axel."_

_He pulled away, even though Axel's consciousness tugged at him incessantly to come back._

Saïx couldn't help but smile.

"So then, you were always like this…"

--- ---

The drive consisted mostly of silence, because Demyx was out cold. The night with his parents just before leaving had been enough to drain him to the point of no return. Not even Redbull could save him this time, but that was fine. Axel needed time to think. Time was running out.

He turned up the stereo just a tad. He wanted to keep the kid sleeping but he also needed something to keep him awake, and so he sang along with the CD, Muse, Hysteria. It was nice. He had a horrible voice—so he thought—but it was fine as long as no one was subjected to it. The light of the moon on asphalt… no one but them on the road tonight. It was Christmas Eve, and he had presents in the back for both himself and Demyx because the blond's parents were too damn nice and Xigbar insisted.

He just wanted to be home… for the most part, the painting he wanted to give to Demyx was done, and he couldn't wait to see the reaction… A week in Florida had spoiled him enough. It was time to go home to the snow and cold and save poor Saïx from that stuffy apartment.

The man was a saint…

But Axel needed him again. The blue-haired man had a way of clearing up even the most clouded of visions, thanks to his perfect ability to latch onto another person's thought processes. He was the more talented of them, no doubt, but he was the one who didn't neglect his abilities. Axel didn't want his… not up until now. Now he needed them and he was out of practice… he was just worried that he'd go off the fucking deep end again. That wouldn't be good in the least.

It had happened before.

"Hey… Axel… Don't look so stressed… are you alright?" Demyx looked worried, albeit very tired.

"I'm fine… but I…" he reached out and tapped the power button on the stereo deliberately. "Demyx… I have reason to believe you're in danger."

"Why?"

"I… I have these dreams."

"I know about your dreams… you scare the shit out of me when you do that…" he sighed, "So you're finally ready to tell me what's going on?"

"Yeah…" Axel took a deep breath. "I… hold on."

He pulled over, put on the parking break and rubbed his face roughly with both hands. A few seconds later he leaned into his seat and breathed a nervous sigh.

"Saïx… Saïx is what most people call a true psychic. He sees shit that no one has any business looking at. He's helped solve a few murders and catch a few bastards with the cops… he's good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I met him at the sanitarium during my first stay. I was really fucked up because I couldn't touch a goddamn thing without seeing something horrible, and well… they thought I was psychotic or something… that didn't help much. I just tried to find a way to die and put myself out of my misery."

"I know how that feels…" Demyx said with a soft smile, fingers absently tracing the puckering scars on his wrists.

"No… you don't know… you don't know how it feels to drown yourself, drink turpentine, gouge your own neck with a pair of rusty scissors… I've been there, done that. I don't know how many times I should have died…"

Demyx looked shocked.

"Anyway, Saïx found me and he knew exactly what was happening to me when he saw my first paintings. He said they looked exactly like his visions… but there was one key difference. He said I didn't see the past…"

"Holy shit… you're… holy shit…" Demyx breathed, "That's not possible. Stop fucking with me."

"Remember the car?" he related, "I had a dream you'd get hit by a car. I had a dream every night where you died in my arms. I listened to your last breath, felt your last heartbeat. I saw you die a hundred times, and when I reached out and pulled you back that night, I altered the course of the future radically. I've never even dared to do it before… time is something sacred… taboo. You don't fuck with it. That's what Saïx said… but I did, and now we have to pay for it."

"Axel…"

"Yeah?"

Demyx didn't look hurt, shocked, mad, or even mildly scared; instead, he looked completely and utterly love-struck, his bright eyes shimmering with tears cascading down his smooth, pale cheeks.

"You messed shit up for me? Just for me?"

"I can't imagine living without you… if you died…" and he didn't need to elaborate as the overwhelming surge of emotions swamped him all at once. "I just can't even imagine…"

"Then… Don't…"

Axel collected himself.

"You're forgetting the catch."

Demyx paled.

"One of us has to pay. Fate demands payment. There has to be a sacrifice." Axel paused. "I think I'm going to die."

"Fuck fate!" Demyx cried, throwing his arms around the redhead possessively, "She won't have you. You're mine you little shit-head!"

"If it comes down to it though… don't stop me, babe."

"What?"

"Time's running out… but if we can just hold on… Don't stop me when the day comes. I want you to live. You're still sane and you have so much potential. I want you to prosper."

"What about you then?" Demyx moaned, "You're talking like you've seen the world… like you know everything… like old people right before they die."

Axel smiled.

"Oh… I've seen it all though other's eyes."

It was then that Demyx realized he couldn't even hazard a guess at Axel's age. He was timeless. And all at the same time he was bound by the revolutions of the planet just like everyone else… But there was just something about him that made him seem like such an anachronism.

"You have…"

"So you'll let me, then?"

But Demyx never answered that. He would prove that sick bitch wrong. He had to.


	18. The Seer

_A little about the Diviner here... he and Axel still don't get along too well, but they can manage, if anything. Axel and Demyx, home again... but there's a few issues mentioned in this chapter. Anyone ever read the Dark Tower series? 'Cause I'd like to think that's what happens at the end of a life._

_Oh... and since they're home, that means the dogs will be around again. Yay!_

_There's some kinks I need to find my way around... but I can't figure 'em out on my own... I need you guys to help me out a bit, ne? I'd be much obliged. :)_

_Thanks to all the people keeping watch on this, the people who have added it to their favorites, and most of all, to my reviewers whom I love. You guys make my little world go 'round! All of this is for you guys. And don't feel shy to tell me when I'm getting corny. I will go back and actually delete and start over a chapter or two back just to make improvements._

* * *

The weather was just as they left it, colder even, and Demyx clung to Axel all the way back up to their floor. They burst in with more than just a little noise, and Saïx rounded the corner from the kitchen, a shy look in his golden eyes. This was the first time Demyx had ever seen the man's face, and now he understood why he hid.

An ugly scar glowered between his eyes, stretching out into a characteristic "X", the crux of which was smack on the bridge of his nose. He reached up and fingered it nervously.

"Hey. Nice to really get to meet you," Demyx said softly.

"Excuse my… appearance. I am glad to finally make your acquaintance."

"You're such a dork," Axel laughed, "Loosen up, wolf man. He's a really open-minded kid. I think he'd care less that you've got a facial scar and I'm a frigging human train wreck."

"Jeez, Axel!" Demyx scolded, "Tact! Use a little tact!"

"No, really… it's fine," Saïx said suddenly. "Dogs!"

The dogs zipped around the corner, tails (and rump, in Leto's case) wagging wildly. They took a moment to greet their beloved companions, and during that point, Saïx tried to slip away, but Demyx pinned him at the door.

"Wait… We need to talk to you."

Saïx looked like he completely understood that before Demyx even said a word, and the blond realized that the older man's hand was on top of his.

"You have a heart that is full of turmoil. You have wounds filled with infection… if you're to heal, you have to trust and give yourself over wholly."

Demyx looked like he got slapped in the face.

"Told ya he was good," Axel laughed, but it was empty, terrible sounding thing.

--- ---

"To begin… I think I must properly introduce myself," Saïx said in his characteristically quiet tone, "I was named Alexander Silas Benedict. When I was young, I had none of the strengths I possess now. I was normal as anyone else… but then I decided I was a tough kid. I joined what you would call kind of a corn-fed gang. You know? Bunch of hicks hanging out and drinking in the fields…"

Demyx nodded. He had no fucking clue, but he nodded anyway.

"I was like a king out there. They said I was a mad dog cut from the chain when I fought, and I guess they were probably right… I beat some of those kids until they couldn't stand anymore… and well… I understandably made some enemies."

"That's how he got his scar," Axel explained, placing a warm mug of coffee in the older man's hands.

"He's right."

"So… what did they do to you that gave you the scar?" Demyx asked, taking his own coffee from Axel. He sipped it and nodded. Lots of cream and six packets of sugar. Perfect.

"They knocked me down after a fight… several older men. They were mad that I was able to ding one of them pretty good… so well… they knocked me over, and I hit my head. That's about all I remember of it because that's how the damage was done. I cracked my head hard enough to do some brain damage to the frontal lobe. I was a completely different person after that. I used to be very loud and outgoing… look at me now."

He smiled a little.

"Basically, my brain overcompensated for some loss or another, and I woke up with this scar on my forehead and quite a bit of people talking to me like I was a little kid or something. I didn't argue or anything though. I just couldn't really think of any way to show them I was alright. Apparently I had been in a coma for a month or so, and it was hard to talk. I was mostly blind too. I just wasn't having a good time, but someone mentioned that the brain damage that makes someone into a complete idiot… that kind also ruins motor skills, and that those people can't do certain movements like sticking out one's tongue, and I did it. That got their attention enough.

"I kind of had to learn how to talk all over again. It was hard… but I did it. I had to deal with a new set of problems with my eyes. Infection had gotten me pretty fucked in that area. I had to learn to walk again. I was suddenly mildly dyslexic, and among other things, I started 'hallucinating'."

"Hallucinating?" Demyx echoed.

"Yeah," Axel acknowledged, "That's what they think it is at first."

"Every time I'd touch anything, I'd get these glimpses of images, and they only seemed to get worse and worse. My first really bad vision was when I accidentally brushed the doorpost of a new friend's house. He'd just moved in and he told us that someone died in the house. He wasn't shitting me either. I had a seizure and passed out in the hallway, woke up with a pretty nasty nosebleed and a headache to rival a bad hangover. That was my first real vision.

"I had more… I had them about myself even, and I remembered being called Saïx. I have these memories of a man with silver hair and eyes… like the color of amber or something like that… but I can't remember him clearly. He called me Saïx. I can tell that he loved me too… in that bizarre misdirected way, I know he loved me… So I call myself Saïx now. I do it more to change my past than anything else, but when you have a marker like this," he indicated his scar, "you tend to have a hard time forgetting those sorts of things."

Demyx paused, "So… you got hit in the head and that's why you're freaky now?"

"That's the gist of it," the blue-haired man said with a shrug. His half-lidded golden eyes locked on Axel, sitting across the room with a moody look on his face. "That one though… he had it inborn."

Axel jumped.

"Really?" Demyx asked, suddenly looking excited, "How do you know?"

"He almost pulled me through a vision a few nights back."

"Feh. I thought you looked familiar…" Axel snorted, "You made me scare the hell out of my parents! And why were you touching my stuff? I thought you didn't touch other people's stuff!"

"I don't. I dare not touch other people's things… not usually at least," Saïx said softly, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Huh?" Demyx mumbled, "Why?"

"Because, Dead-Man, when I touch things, I'm given a terrible insight. It's almost always a very bad thing because of my power. I see things that no human has any earthly right to see."

Demyx placed his empty coffee cup on the table, staring hard and deep into Saïx's flat yellow eyes. They seemed strangely piercing.

"Stop. You're going too far. Opening a window to your soul like that… it's dangerous," Saïx warned.

"Demyx!" Axel scolded, "Leave him alone!"

"Sorry…" the blond said softly, "but what do you mean, dangerous?"

"I have… other abilities."

"He can open the soul," Axel explained without being asked to, "He can see all your deepest secrets and pains, but only if you're looking into his eyes."

"A touch will do it too," Saïx added. Demyx stiffened. "But don't worry. I'm good at keeping secrets. I have none of my own, so I keep others'."

Demyx looked a little shocked.

"Jeez… next thing I know you're going to tell me you're Jesus come down from heaven…" he breathed.

"Well, no… but God is sitting right over there," Saïx chuckled, pointing to Axel.

"Real funny, Wolfie," Axel grumbled, "Now cut the shit. We need to get to work. I've got big problems right now."

"You can't see?" Saïx replied evenly, "I know. It happens when you shut away your power for as long as you have… you may never regain your full potential. But… I may be able to bring you back…"

"This is all… so I don't die?" Demyx asked quietly.

"It may be," Saïx rumbled, "But someone must pay. It may be a fate worse than death. Who knows? Fate is like a fickle woman. She may be satisfied with suffering alone. Pray she is merciful."

"I saw death again," Axel said suddenly, "I'm sure of it."

"Death… that bodes ill."

"So it does, my friend."

Saïx sat there, quiet with his eyes shut for the longest time. He seemed to be hesitating, and the look in Axel's eyes was one of desperation so foreign that it frightened Demyx. He wanted to run… this room was full of ominous darkness.

"We will see… what we can offer…" Saïx said suddenly, "But we fear… that there will be no good to speak of."

"So be it. I'm ready to play my life."

"Again?" Saïx looked up with burnished gold eyes so bright they almost burned, "Like you did so many years before? Not that you would remember… it was in another life."

"I haven't found him yet, I know," he sighed, "I don't know if I ever will, but I'll keep looking."

"That was a different kind of love, was it not?"

"I'd already lost what I was living for at the time. That was all I had left." Axel shifted uneasily. "I'm going to go get something to drink. Then we'll start."

"You sent two away but they will return. The others will come too. They will be drawn to us. That's the way it's always been."

Axel ignored the other, slipped into the kitchen, and finally returned with three glasses and a bottle of gin. He poured them deliberately, handing the first glass to Demyx, who was swimming in perfect confusion. What the fuck were these two talking about?

"So… to see the future," Saïx mumbled, "I've not used you in a long time."

"Don't talk like I'm some kind of screwdriver," Axel grumbled.

"But you are a tool."

"For supposedly good friends," Demyx laughed nervously, "You two don't get along so well…"

"We never did," Axel admitted with a little smile.

"Is that so…"

"Yes," Saïx replied, "Axel always was a bit of an asshole… you'd do best to remember."

_Remember?_ Demyx thought, and for some reason, he did remember.

That in and of itself scared the shit out of him.

"There's much… I need to tell you… things that I'd tried to forget. Maybe they're all best forgotten as it is," Axel said with a mournful sigh, "You've believed me this long… you need to hear me out and trust me one more time… Can you?"

Demyx laughed in that terrible crestfallen note that signaled he was defeated once more.

"When have you ever given me reason not to?"

Saïx held out his hand.

"Every answer you'll ever need… is right here in my hands."

Demyx reached out slipped his fingers into that strong grasp and there was pain.


	19. Remember

_Alright... Um. I haven't been getting much feedback lately. It worries me... I know how silly and rediculous that sounds, but I have irrational fears that you guys aren't liking it when you don't review and tell me what you think... because then I can't go back and fix things._

_Anyway, hopefully you guys still like it._

_I might take a little more time now, since I have to plan where to go. The explanations should come in the next chapter (mainly, why did Axel not see or not say, why are all these people still linked, why can't they remember Xemnas, etc.) and then after that, the second strike. The third is the deciding one, and at this point, I'm still not sure who will get the axe._

_Anyway... enjoy._

* * *

"_So you're number nine? You're nothing but a little shrimp…"_

_Demyx looked away._

"_So what if I'm not that tough… I… I'm useful…"_

_Violent acid green eyes bored holes through the newly heartless boy, a cocky grin on his pale face. He shrugged languidly and turned his attention back to the book in his lap, fingering the dog-eared page as his eyes snapped back and forth across the page. He was nothing like anyone Demyx had ever seen in his life: wild, flaming red hair, battery-acid eyes, thin lips, dark scars beneath his eyes. He was beautiful, but Demyx couldn't bring himself to say anything for fear he might get hurt._

"_Look, are you going to stand and gawk all day or are you going to come and sit down?" the redhead grumbled, "I don't bite, you know."_

"_Oh… yeah."_

_Demyx jumped, nearly tripping over the hem of his new coat. He cursed mentally that he should be forced to wear such a binding, cumbersome garment._

"_Easy there, killer," the redhead laughed, snapping his book shut and leaning closer as Demyx sank down into the couch. "Name's Axel. A-X-E-L. It'd be good for you to memorize it."_

"_Alright… Axel. I'm Demyx. I don't think I have to spell it for you…"_

_Axel laughed long and loud until tears ran down his cheeks. Demyx was starting to worry the man might choke on his own tongue when the redhead finally spoke._

"_You know… you're adorable," he gasped between laughing fits, "But cute in a childish kind of way."_

_Demyx smiled, none the wiser._

_--- ---_

_Those eyes… so strange. Demyx clung to Axel's arm like a frightened child, and the redhead returned the favor, acid eyes focused hard on the figure before him._

"_What do you want, Saïx?" he grated._

"_So that's the new one? I know that Xe---- expressed some interest in the… child."_

_Gold eyes so bright they burned… no, not gold. Yellow like the moon, but the hue was so much brighter, like headlights on a car or the color of wolf's eyes. Demyx released Axel from the strangle-hold on his arm and stepped forward, fair aqua eyes tracing the man named Saïx from head to toe._

"_Curiosity killed the cat, little guy…" Axel breathed, grasping the younger man's shoulder in a death grip, "And anyone who gives that guy the wrong kind of look will surely die. Trust me."_

"_He has no need to fear me," Saïx said flatly, "He never did anything to get on my bad side, now did he?"_

"_My name is Demyx… it's nice to meet you."_

"_Fearless… for the most part," Saïx said with a low chuckle, "Our Superior requires an audience with you, Demyx."_

_Axel heaved a sigh._

"_Show him around while you're at it?"_

"_He'll be staying with you for a while. No reason for me to waste my time."_

"_Uh… I'm right here, guys."_

"_Don't act offended," Saïx rumbled, "You aren't."_

_Well, no wonder no one like this guy._

"_My thoughts are my own. Don't try to tell me what to think," Demyx huffed petulantly._

"_Look, kid. Just go with him and get all that over with. I'll be waiting."_

_Demyx smiled a little, looked over his shoulder, "Promise?"_

_Axel hesitated, but his answer was satisfactory._

"_Sure… just get going."_

_--- ---_

_There was the vague memory that the Superior was a lovely man, but the dream, the memory was shattered, and he was unclear._

_--- ---_

_There were others… notably a very grouchy old scientist. Demyx never got along really well with the guy, but Vexen was accommodating enough after certain scuffles that ended with him lying on a medical table, covered in bandages. His mouth always tasted vaguely medicinal on those occasions, but Axle liked to sneak in, and he didn't care._

_Vexen always tried to keep Axel away from the lab, but he got in anyway. He was a sneaky redheaded bastard… Demyx always thought that Vexen had a thing for him, though, and it was true, the older blond was keeping a keen eye on the younger. He was always too kind to Demyx._

"_Would you like something for the pain?" Vexen asked civilly, inspecting the wound on Demyx's shoulder. A heartless had gotten in a pretty good hit._

"_No, sir, I'm fine," the younger man replied quietly._

"_You are sure?"_

"_Yeah… thanks Vexen."_

_But Demyx didn't love him, and their relationship was always awkward because of it._

_--- ---_

_Xigbar was loud and fun and Demyx loved to hang out with him and Axel, just killing time between missions and finding new nobodies. They'd found two more since Demyx's discovery: one a man they named Luxord, and another named Marluxia._

_Though Demyx got somewhat involved with Xigbar for a while, it wasn't exactly what he was looking for, and they never really got any further in their relationship besides being good friends. All Demyx's devotion was lavished on a certain redhead, and Xigbar really didn't mind. He'd taken interest in a certain pink-haired man._

_--- ---_

_Over time, Demyx developed a strong relationship with the man named Xaldin. Though the older man was very much of a loner, he was quite content to spend time with Demyx, listening to the younger man read aloud, helping him with the more difficult words in the heavy volumes. More often than not Zexion would sit in on these sessions, and he developed a very casual air around the blond._

_Demyx was, by and large, popular with almost everyone. He knew when to be respectful and when it was alright to play around. As such, he spent much of his time divided between the groups. With the Senior members, also including Saïx, he was quiet, courteous and he received his intellectual rations. With the Neophytes, he had fun._

_The Superior often called upon him during this time, but the details were unclear still._

_--- ---_

_It was during the time Larxene arrived that Demyx first started training with Lexaeus. These two hadn't necessarily even spoken with one another before then, but orders were orders, and they began training as soon as possible._

_With the hulking man's help, Demyx learned his element and quickly mastered it, honed his skill in battle—meager as they were—and made his body into a temple. It didn't matter how hard he worked out though: he was always lithe and reedy, but he did harden himself to a point where his muscles were like so much rock and steel._

_Lexaeus was pleased._

_--- ---_

"_We don't have hearts… but when I'm with you, Axel… I don't know what I would ever need a heart for. You'll always be all I ever need."_

_Axel smiled and pulled the blond close against him._

"_I know," he whispered, pressing a kiss on the younger man's cheek, "I feel the same way."_

_But that was the very day that thirteen shattered the moment and took the life of their love as the sacrificial lamb to spill on the alter of nothingness._

_--- ---_

"_His name is Roxas, and he's ruining my life…"_

_--- ---_

"_Demyx! Take it easy!"_

"_No! You need to choose! Who will you love, Axel?" Demyx cried, pulling his wrist out of the redhead's grasp, "Who is it that you will choose? You can't have two things. There has to be a sacrifice."_

"_I have to save him, Demyx…"_

"_You do?" Demyx breathed, "Is that what you want?"_

"_Yes…" Axel sighed, looking away._

"_You love him more than you love me."_

"_Never!" the redhead roared, "It's not the same kind of love!"_

"_I see," Demyx said sadly, "Do what you have to… but when you return, I might not be here."_

"_What do you mean?" Axel said softly._

"_Orders are orders."_

_--- ---_

"_Silence, traitor!"_

_--- ---_

"_No… No way!" he cried…_

_And though he didn't have the strength to say it, he wanted to cry out… he wanted to tell this broken world how much he loved his lover… heartless or no, he loved his lover so._

--- ---

There was pain and Demyx wrenched his hand from the older man's grasp, curling in upon himself on the couch. He fingered the spot where he felt the key blade shatter his breastbone, shivering.

"Jesus Christ…"

"Demyx!" Axel cried, running to the kid's side, "Hey… hey, you okay, love?"

"I'm so glad," Demyx laughed, "that Roxas isn't here… and I'm glad I beat Sora up that summer when I was eight!"

"Welcome back kid," Saïx mumbled, "Nice to have a heart, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Demyx agreed, smiling up at his lover's green eyes, "But still… you two got some 'splainin' to do."

"Do we, now?" Axel laughed.

"He deserves it," Saïx said matter-of-factly.

"Well... let's make some coffee first," Axel suggested, "It's a long, long story."


	20. A Gift

_Forgive any mistakes on this one... I was really distracted when I wrote the majority of it. I had a dentist appointment today right after finishing up with testing and for some reason, every new person who cleans my teeth manages to find the filling in one of my front teeth, and now there's a gap because the woman put the pick in there and pulled it up. I just about gave her a straight-arm to the face. So I'm in a good deal of pain, but it's alright. I have two fillings to get. Hooray for bad genetics! I'm a clean freak about my mouth and I still get cavities anyway!_

_But on with the story. If you see anything shoddy, do point it out for me. I could use the help since I don't have me a beta... and remember, it was a week before Crimmus when they left, so it's Crimmus now, and they're giving each other their gifts today. Yay!_

_Bad explanation here, but that's the gist of it. Their lives from before were complete. They don't really remember much unless they really think about it... like make a mental effort... not Blue-Boy though... he's special. Anyway, I'm out. I can't stay up late anymore... my head hurts. LOL._

_Read, enjoy, and please, dear god, review! I'll be a much less paranoid writer. Those last four really made my day. I wish I could reply (I've tried) but I don't think they're going through. O well._

* * *

Lord only knows how much coffee those men consumed that night, and they were still tired enough to pass out after all the talk was done.

Demyx lay against Axel's chest, the fingers of his left hand tangled in the sleeping man's hair, the other linked with Axel's right. Saïx sat across from them, slowly nodding off, and past the skyline, Demyx could see the sun rising.

_I can't believe… I'm dead… but I'm alive too…_

He sighed softly.

_Maybe that's what Axel means by a "complete" life… it's like I remember, but I don't… but I've always felt drawn to Axel. I felt drawn to Xigbar and Marluxia too. I've felt drawn to all of our reincarnated buddies, but god… how to explain this to them… should I explain at all?_

_Axel was right. These things are better left forgotten._

"I love you, Axel… I guess it's safe to say I always have…"

"Love… you… too," Axel mumbled, shifting a little in his sleep.

Demyx smiled.

"Good night."

--- ---

By the time they had all awakened, Demyx really knew what Axel meant. Because of the nature of past lives, he really had to think before he could remember any given aspect of the complete life. He'd died and that book closed, and now with a new one open, it wasn't much more than a distraction to crack the spines of old volumes. It was the way fate worked.

Saïx vanished early in the afternoon, refusing the wad of cash Axel pushed into his hand. He was convinced that Axel had given him enough just to tolerate his presence. It seemed Saïx was the only one who had his volumes all collected into one book. To look at him shallowly, one would think he was completely derailed. Really, he was just without any sense of time and space: a strange juxtaposition of many lives all bundled up into one physical being. He was outside the flow of time, and it made him seem inhuman in a way.

He'd left, admonishing Axel for calling him "wolfie" all the way out the door.

And the apartment was cold and quiet again.

"Merry Christmas," Demyx yelled suddenly, leaping off the couch and practically squealing, he blazed around the corner into the bedroom, skidding on his knees next to the bed. The squeal of skin on tile alerted the redhead to the blond's current whereabouts. Axel, still in the kitchen, couldn't help but laugh a little, and sneak over to his own hiding place.

_Why didn't I think to look under the bed? Jeez. He knows exactly how I think. Put it in the most goddamn obvious place and I'll never find it._

Axel pulled up the sheet over the canvas and slid under to examine his painting… it was basically done for a portrait piece, and he was extremely happy with it. It was still a little weird to look into your own eyes on a canvas though. He ran a hand across the strokes that made up his hair. The color was a little off, but it was fine. He actually looked more like his past life in the painting, if he really gave it thought. Slipping back out from under the sheet, he picked up the painting and the covering together, wrapped it up and carried it out into the living room to place it under the "Christmas Tree Should be Here" sign that Demyx drew in a moment of despair. All because Axel didn't feel like buying one. He might have to remedy that situation.

"Oh! You did get me something, you sly beast!" Demyx laughed, "Well, let's see here…"

He knelt by Axel, placing three packages in bright paper next to the redhead. Axel smiled softly.

"You didn't have to…"

"Oh, but I did!" the blond cried cutely wrapping his arms around his lover. "You gonna open them?"

"One more thing to get," Axel mumbled, "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Sure…"

Axel got to his feet and ran over to the kitchen, dug into a floor-level cupboard and pulled out two bulky brown paper bags.

He clapped his hands twice and the dogs came running, Leto bringing up the lead for once, and he looked so very intense. Demyx sat back on his haunches and watched as Axel coaxed Zipporah closer with soothing whispers and the occasional comment.

"Good boy; good girl," he laughed, digging something or other out of the bags. As soon as Axel offered it, Leto took the treat and retreated across the room to work on it. Zipporah was slightly hesitant, but she too took the treat and found her own spot on the floor to crunch on it.

Axel trotted back over, the paper bags still under each arm.

"What was that?" Demyx inquired, a brow quirked lightly.

"Pig ear," Axel replied with a snort, "Best thing to happen to doggie kind since the milk bone."

"Ick!" Demyx cried, "Oh that's so nasty!"

He was laughing though, and Axel was still smiling.

"Open your present now, you big dork."

"Alright…" Demyx laughed, leaning over to snatch up the shrouded item. He hesitated a moment before pulling away the covering. The smile on his face was priceless. "Axel…"

"It's the first one I ever did… might want to keep it," Axel said softly, "I guess it's kind of like a collector's item."

Demyx smiled, still not quite sure of what to do. He leaned it against the wall, facing them and pulled Axel close to him.

"Well, of course I will. Now you'll be with me no matter where I am."

"You're so sweet…" Axel sighed, "I keep wondering what possessed me…"

"Don't think about that… this is a new page. Fill it with only what you want, not what you regret. If we've been given this second chance, I think we should make the best of it," he said, his voice suddenly taking that bizarre all-knowing tone that let Axel know he was remembering everything. "Open my presents… the big one first."

"Alright…" Axel said softly, slipping out of Demyx's grasp. He pulled out the first package and tore into it without much of a pause. The smooth leather cover of a sketchbook emerged and he grinned so broad it looked painful. "It's awesome…"

He fingered the terracotta colored cover for a moment, flipped through the pages to examine them. They were thick and heavy, and a soft creamy white. It was perfect.

"Now the next," Demyx urged, a small grin curling at the edges of his mouth.

Axel moved on, placing the sketchbook in his lap and tore through the paper on the next package, which was almost strangely heavy. He gasped at the contents.

"Demyx…"

"I know."

"Demyx, when did you…?" Axel ran his fingers over the tin, "These are Prismacolors… and this is every color…"

"I know," the blond laughed, "It's alright Axel."

"Demyx, this is a… two hundred dollar set of colored pencils…"

Axel looked distressed.

"I got a bonus, and I remember…" Demyx assured him, "But Axel… I did it for you. That's all that matters, right? Open the last one. It's the most important."

Axel numbly set the set of pencils in his lap, picked up the last package, which was suspiciously light. He tore away the paper and gently lifted the top off of the box. Axel stopped breathing.

The box contained two rings: both were very plain but the silver was so bright and beautiful that it made up for that plainness. Demyx reached over wordlessly and took the box, set it in Axel's lap and picked up one of the rings. It was then, with a little natural light that caught the edge, that he realized it wasn't silver at all. It was most definitely platinum. Demyx slid the ring onto Axel's finger, a perfect fit.

"I love you, Axel Ignatius Brenton," he said softly, "I don't believe in marriage… but I want you here by my side… until the day I die. I'm giving you this ring as the symbol of my undying love… will you… will you stay?"

Axel gaped, dumbstruck.

"I… I…"

He shook his head violently, took a deep breath and reached down for the other ring.

"I want you," he breathed. It was all he could manage.

Demyx helped the redhead slip the ring onto his finger.

"You can have me. All of me."

--- ---

The dogs played with their new toys and they enjoyed them thoroughly, romping and loudly fooling around in the living room and studio, but the painting at the art supplies lay untouched.

The bedroom was dark and sultry, the shades pulled.

The sheets were tangled.

Two men entwined in the most intimate way, lying breathless next to each other in the dusk-light of sun filtered through crimson curtains.

"We're running… out of time," Demyx sighed, "Aren't we?"

"I don't know," Axel admitted. "I can't see anymore."

"Well… let's love like there's no tomorrow then," Demyx suggested, rolling over on top of the older man to press a tender kiss on his lips.

"Let's…" Axel moaned.


	21. The Second Strike

_A whole lot of you are going to hate me for this chapter. They're finally fucking happy and I have to go and ruin it, huh? Well remember... three strikes... not two. (Please don't throw anything at me! There's a cute little guinea piggy sitting my my lap, and she's delicate!) Please note that there's some pretty violent bits in here... but I think you guys will have a little more respect (and maybe some healthy fear) of Saix after this. I always thought of him as a more noble individual. Behind all that Anti-social bullshit he's a pretty good person... good enough to risk his life for a friend._

_Um... what to say?_

_Really just a bad situation all in all. And_ _since sorinslayer4eva brought up the subject of fan art... go right ahead, if you want to do that. :) if you post it online somewhere, send me a link and I'll link it in my front page._

_A read and review reminder on this chapter is extremely important to me right now. I really need some advice on this chapter because there's bound to be some parts that need fixin'. So enjoy (as best you can) this wonderfully terrible installment of Turpentine. (And please note that Saix decides to come and go as he pleases. He's done it for years... benefits of knowing where your buddies hide their doorkeys.)_

* * *

"_I wish… I could have died in your arms…"_

Axel woke with a strangled gasp, managing to fall completely out of bed. He was sore so he just lay there, naked, his feverish, throbbing body pressed to the cold floor. Demyx was gone.

"I was wondering when you'd wake up."

Axel jumped, pulled the covers down around his bare hips and looked up. Saïx emerged from the living room.

"Shit. It's just you."

"Yeah. I just saw your dream," Saïx said softly, "He wanted to see the comet, didn't he?"

Axel thought about it a little, and then nodded. He was pretty sure that was the case.

"That comet… that's tonight, Axel. And he's not here," Saïx said ominously. "It's 6:30. You slept late, you lazy bastard. We don't have much time."

Now completely shameless, Axel threw off the sheet and lurched to his feet.

"Fuck."

The sky was red like blood.

--- ---

Axel panicked.

He ran through the streets screaming out his lover's name, trying to find that back alley he remembered, Saïx close behind, confirming landmarks. The redhead felt so hopeless. It broke his heart to know that he could very well lose his one true love tonight and all because he slept late like the idiot he was.

"Axel…" Saïx said with a shudder, "Forgive me. I won't tell you to look away. You won't. You'll never forget this."

The blue haired man pulled his mane up into a tight pony-tail, knotted it at the base of his skull. He smiled fiercely.

"It's been ages… but these hands know what to do. They always have."

A dark figure strode out of the alleyway, the black hood of his sweater jerked over his head. He hesitated when he saw the two men, reached for something in his pocket. Saïx moved with catlike grace, throwing himself into a run, gathering to jump. His lean body uncoiled like a spring, and he was right Axel couldn't force himself to turn away. Saïx soared through the air just as the gunman pulled his weapon. That terrible grin glinted behind the darkness and he pulled the trigger. There was a mist of dark blood and a loud crack, but no other sound. Saïx collided with his knees against the gunman's chest, effectively toppling him.

The gun clattered away into darkness and there was a loud wet snap. The blue-haired demon had practically ripped his attacker's head off his shoulders, and he was limping to his feet now, blood spilling lavishly from the new holes in his thigh.

"Go to Demyx!" the older man ordered, "I'll be fine. It's just a scratch."

Axel needed no more prodding. He dashed down the alleyway, long legs carrying him at breakneck speed. He felt his heart sink as he saw the sprawled form in the low light. There was lots of blood…

"Demyx!" he cried hoarsely, crashing to his knees, "Demyx, open your eyes, babe…"

"A…Ax…el…" he croaked, blue eyes just barely fluttering open.

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey, I'm here…" he whispered, "I wanted to be here for you, love."

"Love… y-you…" he whispered.

"I know, just hang on, love," Axel urged. Even though he knew he probably shouldn't, he picked the blond up and held him close against his chest. "Help's on the way. Just hang on, alright?"

"T-tired…"

"Shh. Don't talk. Just stay awake for me, alright?"

He could feel blood seeping into his clothes, but he didn't mind. He needed to hold his lover. He wouldn't let this, his very heart and soul, die.

There was perfect silence, filled only with the faint rasp of Demyx's labored breathing. Axel slicked back that thick blond hair and the boy smiled. He looked as white as the snow collecting on the corrugated metal roofs around them.

"S…See…" Demyx whispered.

Axel looked up, the ghostly white streak still and beautiful against the slowly bluing sky. He was surprised when tiny white snowflakes began to descend from nowhere.

"It's snowing…"

Demyx sighed softly allowing his head to fall against Axel's chest. The redhead snapped his attention down to the blond.

"Hey! Don't you dare go to sleep."

"No… sleep… 'til Brooklyn," Demyx breathed, bright eyes wandering about aimlessly. He was getting weak… too weak.

"That's right," Axel laughed, reaching down tentatively. He grasped the wound and made an effort to put some pressure on it. Demyx shuddered.

"That… h… hurts."

"I know. Just hang on, kid. You're stronger than anyone else I know."

He could hear the sirens now, watching snowflakes strike the pavement and vanish like they'd never existed at all.

"Demyx."

"Mm?"

"I love you," Axel whispered, leaning down to kiss his lover's ashen cheek.

Demyx smiled softly.

"Ditto…"

"Axel…"

"Saïx?" Axel called, whirling to look over his shoulder. The older man liked paler than ever, his shirt now torn up and wrapped up around his wounded thigh.

"They're coming… is he…?"

"Come here," Axel replied.

The blue haired man limped up to Axel's side, knelt heavily.

"Demyx…" Saïx whispered, "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

"'S alright…" Demyx mumbled, "'M glad… you did…"

Saïx reached down and placed his fingers to Demyx's pulse. His face was blank as he gave Axel that look that said "I really don't know…"

Things got hectic as soon as the police and the ambulance arrived. Saïx admitted that he'd killed the gunman, and Axel's heart wrenched when they took him away, handcuffed to a gurney to be treated. The paramedics came to examine Demyx, but they looked worried and a little doubtful.

"Can he be saved," Axel whispered to the larger of the two men. He was shocked at exactly who it was he was looking at.

"It's up in the air right now, but we got here just in time. Are you hurt?"

"Lex…no. Aeleus."

"Yes… but how…"

"Never mind that. Take this," Axel reached into his pocket and pulled out a few business cards. He pushed one down into the man's front pocket. "Name is Axel. Commit it to memory."

"Aeleus! We need to get going now!" the other paramedic called.

"Can I come?" Axel asked quietly.

"I…"

"Aeleus!" the other man barked, running up to the hulking man. He gave Axel a glance and familiar cerulean eyes caught his attention. They were so blue they were almost violet. Though he was short the amazing sideburns and his hair was shorn close, the stocky build and the voice alerted Axel to the fact that this was Xaldin.

"Dilan, he wants to come."

"It's a good idea. The kid's going haywire since we separated them."

"Oh the irony," Axel breathed. "I'll come."

"Let's hit the road now! We don't have much time," Dilan yelled, breaking into full tilt, Axel and Lexaeus close behind.

--- ---

Axel woke lying across three of those uncomfortable chairs they put in doctors offices and… hospital waiting rooms.

"Sir… sir please wake up."

It was a smooth, nasal voice. Not necessarily unpleasant, but not enjoyable either. So familiar.

Axel looked up into eyes that were roughly the same color as his own, but slightly darker, and definitely far more sharp.

"We've finally moved your friend out of surgery, but he's still in critical condition. We're having a hard time stabilizing him."

Axel sat up quietly.

"Thanks, Vexen."

"Hmm?" the doctor stared down at him with a glimmer of confusion in his eyes, but still, there was an odd sense of recognition. Axel smiled sheepishly. He was actually pretty handsome at this age… probably only twenty-nine… thirty at the most. Minus the crazy glint he had in the old days, he was definitely attractive in his own right. "Excuse me. I never introduced myself. Tonight has been much too wild for this ER surgeon. Even Horowitz."

"Axel Brenton…"

They shook hands.

"There was minimal damage from the shot… but he had been bleeding for a good long while. Your clothes are a testament to that," Even explained. "We preformed a transfusion, but during the surgery he went into cardiac arrest."

Axel stiffened.

"Don't worry… we were able to resuscitate him quickly. There should be no lingering effects… I'm fairly convinced he will survive."

"Will you… personally keep an eye on him?" Axel asked, "I trust you…"

"I…" Even shifted his weight and pushed a generous length of his long dirty-blond hair over his shoulder, "I don't usually look after patients long term… but I'm sure I could make an exception in this case. I'm still a little worried about those sutures…"

"Thanks," Axel sighed.

"Because you're not family, we can't allow you into room at this time… we couldn't find any of his family, actually."

"He's under an assumed name," Axel explained, "I'm his… lover. His parents are in Florida."

"I see…" Even said, his voice suddenly very sad. "I'm afraid there's no exception on that, but there was another individual who came in and asked for you. He's in far better condition for wear. I'll have to consult Aerith. Last I checked she was on that one."

"Thanks again… you don't know how much I owe you…" Axel laughed, knuckling his bloodshot eyes.

"It's my job. But your thanks are… very encouraging," Even replied, "It was a pleasure meeting you."

The tall, stately blond vanished back into the ER's big double doors.

Axel waited for a moment before he pulled out his cell phone. These would be the hardest phone calls he would ever make in his life.

"Zell first, then Robert and Mary, and finally Xig and Marlu," he sighed. He scrolled down to the first name and pressed the call button.


	22. The Greyhound

_This chapter was an interesting write... because I really learned where the cocktail "Greyhound" comes from. That's what it was. Read and ye shall be enlightened._

_Aerith is old here. Sorry. I couldn't help it. She's probably in her late thirties. But a certain someone happens to like older women, and he's having a particularly bad night._

_Well... I think they're all having a bad night, to tell the truth._

_No one dies yet... I'm still pondering... (and sighing and moaning and all that stuff that goes with deep introspection. My parents think I'm NUTS trying to please you guys :D) and things don't look s'good. I have to get Demyx's nickname in here too... I keep forgetting about it. It's my sister's name for him since I thought of the concept of a gay musician and explained that to her. A few of you may be able to guess based on that. If you can, kudos to you. I'll probably end up inserting it for some bedside humor._

_But until then, read, enjoy, review, repeat. I love you all so very much, you have no idea! I'm here to please!_

_(P.S. My latest review made me laugh so hard I started crying even though I knew I shouldn't have been laughing and it totally made me rethink killing one of the boys for a second... but I think I'll persist in my plans. I'm sorry to all of you who think it deserves a happy ending... but just because of the fact that someone dies doesn't mean it won't be a happy ending... ever listen to Painters? I mentioned it earlier with a purpose. Love y'all.)_

* * *

Aerith was a lovely woman, relatively tall with rich brown curls that easily fell to her waist. Axel couldn't tell what age she may have been, but he wouldn't be surprised if someone told him she was in her late thirties. She led him quietly to the room Saïx was being held in.

"He's a little groggy because of the painkillers, but he's still pretty alert… enough to be his usual self, I think."

"Thanks… I really need this," Axel sighed, his voice shaky.

She opened the door for him and as soon as the click of the handle Saïx's golden eyes found him and the most unrestrained show of emotion spilled over his usually solemn face. He looked _hopeless_ and before a single word could be said, a single crystalline tear slipped down a pale cheek.

"No…" he moaned.

"No! No, no… You've got the wrong idea… he's got good chances," Axel cried, trotting to the older man's side.

"Oh god… you scared me," Saïx breathed, "He'll make it…?"

"We're looking at a 70 chance he'll live through tonight," Axel confirmed, "And it only goes up after that… the doctor is Vexen."

"You're… kidding, right?"

"No… Even Horowitz. You ought to see him… I only ever got to see him when he was a wrinkly old man. He looks like he's probably thirty."

The cop in the corner quirked an eyebrow, and Saïx lavished a glance, alerting Axel to the outsider's presence.

"Does it hurt much?" Axel asked, glancing down to the hand Saïx had on his injured thigh.

"Only a little now… I can feel it throbbing though."

"Thank you. You saved my life… you probably saved Demyx too."

Saïx smiled in that way that Axel knew was a genuine expression. His face always seemed to soften, and it just made him look like the beautiful person he really was behind all the puff and strut. He made a note mentally to tell Saïx never to lose that part of his being. As soon as it happened, it disappeared, and Saïx reached up, handcuffs binding his movement somewhat, tinkling against the metal railing on the bed, but he had just enough leeway to place a hand on Axel's cheek.

"_What do you think… what should we do?"_

"_I'm not sure," _Axel replied, _"Did the questioning go badly?"_

"_Not as bad as I thought," _Saïx admitted, _"But I'm still afraid… I can't serve time. Not again. It'll kill me."_

"_I know."_

"_Five people died in this bed, Axel."_

"_It's hard, isn't it?"_

"_Yes…"_

Saïx shuddered visibly, squeezed his eyes shut.

"_Take it easy… I know you can't keep your composure up right now. The medicine always kills it pretty quick."_

"_I can't go back to that cage…"_

"_I know…"_

Axel surprised the older man when he bent and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him into an intimate embrace.

"I won't let that happen."

"Sir, please refrain…"

"Sorry," Axel mumbled, breaking away from his shocked friend. "I'm going. If anything happens, make them call me, alright? I won't let them do a damn thing. You were only protecting us."

Axel pinned the cop with a cold jade glare.

"Thanks… you really don't have to," Saïx assured, "I'm sure they'll figure it out."

"Just in case they don't," Axel grumbled, "It's not unheard of… I'm going down to the chapel… I… I wonder if God will listen to me."

"Pray. I'll be there in spirit," Saïx said softly. "Good night, Axel."

"You get some rest," Axel said in return, "Try not to think too much, alright."

"Yeah… you too."

Axel slipped out silently, wandered the halls aimlessly until he finally reached the destination he'd mentioned.

The chapel was beautiful, low light spilling down on lovely wooden pews that looked as though they were probably hand made many years past. A huge cross stood at the back of the room, illuminated dramatically from behind, and a few people sat at the steps of the alter, presumably praying for loved ones. Axel slipped into a pew in the back, fresh tears stinging in his eyes. He was so angry.

"God," he whispered bitterly, "I haven't talked to you in a long time… and sometimes I think I hate you for putting me through all this… but just this once, could you let me have what I want? I'll give anything… everything, just that he would live…"

--- ---

"Kimhari… leave the boy be, if you would."

"Father, he shouldn't be sleeping here," the blue-haired boy complained. His eyes were strikingly bright gold. Axel couldn't help but think how much he looked like Saïx in build and almost every other aspect, except that his skin was more olive colored, his hair more cobalt.

"Sorry… he's right," Axel croaked, "'Scuse my intrusion."

"No, my son," the Father said simply, his voice flat and monotone, but still carrying a slightly mirthful note, "No need to apologize. No place like a chapel for a soul-weary wanderer to rest his feet."

Axel was taken aback. This priest looked like he'd gone through hell and back again, his black hair streaking gray, his face scarred. He looked as though he'd lost an eye.

"I see you're captivated by my interesting appearance."

"No! Um…" Axel shook his head violently to clear it, "I'm sorry, father. I didn't mean to stare."

"Father Auron, if you like," he said softly. "I'm here to pray with you, if you would like, my son."

Kimhari snorted irritably and left the room.

"Yeesh," Axel breathed.

"Ignore him. He's been having a rough night," Auron explained, "Please come with me."

And Axel obeyed.

--- ---

Lying on his cold bed, alone and without a soul to comfort him, Axel found that he couldn't ease himself into sleep.

Everything felt so alien without the beautiful blond by his side.

He looked over to the clock and it was about a minute or so before the LCD display registered. Five minutes to six. There wasn't really any point in sleeping now, but he tried anyway, and all he could manage was a few five second naps that he was awakened from almost instantly. Demyx's broken soul wouldn't stop pleading, echoing in the shattered remains of his heart.

The smell of turpentine.

For the first time in almost six years Axel lurched to his feet and found the cupboard where he kept his oils and everything he needed to use them with.

He pulled out the rusting steel can, slammed it down on the table, went to the fridge and cracked open a new carton of orange juice.

Really the drink is supposed to be made with grapefruit juice, and people who broke the original recipe use vodka—though it is a bit close to the original concoction—but he doesn't have grapefruit juice right now so he uses what he has.

He poured the orange juice first, filling the tall glass a little over three quarters of the way, and then he added the poison. This was real poison. The smell of it made him gag hard, but he was able to keep from vomiting.

He placed both containers back in their respective places and tipped back the first bile-inducing sip, instantly gagged at the flavor, as much as he had tried to mask it. He waited for the burning to settle in his stomach, then took another sip, waited, took another sip, waited, took another sip until it was all gone. He placed the glass in the sink, clunking it down hard enough to crack it and lurched to his bed.

It wasn't enough to kill him, he knew, but he entertained the thought of going back for more… maybe he could be fate's fucking lamb.

His head reeled, his heart throbbed unevenly, painfully, but he couldn't seem to knock himself out and it was agony. It just seemed to go on and on and he wished it would end. He wished he could take it all back, but turpentine is unforgiving as a medium with which to attain that perfect state of death, and his soul seemed glued in its superficial shell.

He writhed in agony until the sun came up, and his phone began to ring soon thereafter, but he was in so much pain he couldn't get to it.

The phone rang and rang and rang and Axel couldn't move except for violent spasms that shook his delicate frame like a butterfly in a hurricane. There was nothing to keep him company but the incessant ringing and the violent pounding of his own heart in his ears until finally unconsciousness mercifully took him away from it all.

--- ---

When he woke again, Axel was faintly aware of the fact that he liked pain… he liked to torture himself, and he listened to his voicemail as he wretched until his throat bled.


	23. Turpentine

_This is kind of a between chapter... with a little of a twist. You'll definitely see where I'm going with this without paying a whole lot of attention. That bottom piece is part of the story and it's important. Don't let the "According to Wikipedia..." part throw you off. It's important._

_The title chapter. We're getting closer. I think I'll probably end up termanating this at around chapter 35-40, so there's more to come. Make theories. I hope this doesn't kill the suspense, honestly, but... I think you guys will understand._

_You've understood me thus far. And for that I'm so very grateful. No, I'm not trying to flatter, I'm just saying, you guys made this worth the ride. I lost this chapter twice and was unable to recover a vast majority of it the second time... but I wanted to get it out to you today. _

* * *

Axel came to Saïx. They simply sat there in companionable silence, but it was strangely uncharacteristic for the redhead to be so quiet. He hadn't even made any effort to speak a greeting, and Saïx was beginning to worry a little. 

His golden eyes dropped to the bruises on his wrist. They'd determined finally that he was innocent, that he was merely protecting himself and the others when he lashed out as he did. But still, he couldn't help but feel guilty. They came to tell him who exactly he had killed.

Nero Sebelle; age seventeen; height, five feet, six inches; weight, one hundred and ten pounds. They'd only told him that the kid had been a problem in the past… but he knew better. The kid was a monster: already having been linked back to two other unsolved murders. He'd committed atrocities that no human hands should ever have attempted, and in that he forfeited his sanity, his humanity and his heart. And it all started with his mother and a wooden spoon.

Regretful, but unchangeable.

Axel breathed a soft sigh, sitting at the bedside with his arms on the mattress, chin propped up on an elbow. He looked terrible, haggard, worn and Saïx could see the rusty bloodstains on his hands that he had neglected to wash away… either that or he'd missed them. It had been this way for days now.

He looked pained to breathe. And worst of all, he looked so tired with his bloodshot eyes, his corpselike pallor. He seemed dead already and Saïx was terribly worried despite his uncaring demeanor.

He let the mask fall and shatter on the floor like so much delicate china.

Slipping a hand under his chin, he tipped the Axel's head up enough that he could see that drawn, deathly weary face. He winced as the _touch_ brought the images of bloody vomit. So sensitive was he that he could almost feel the sickly burn in the pit of his stomach, taste the alkaline choke and salt-iron burn slipping between his teeth. He shuddered.

"You hurt yourself again, didn't you?" Saïx asked softly, lacing his other hand into Axel's thick red mane.

Axel nodded, the look in his eyes much like that of a guilty child. Saïx felt that sudden and almost maternal urge to shield this poor unfortunate soul from the wiles of a dark, frightening world, but he could already see, the poison was too deeply set. He pulled the redhead forward against him, stroking coarse red hair soothingly.

"Demyx is going to be pissed when he finds out…" he said absently, "And you're going to die if you keep doing it, Axel."

He didn't speak, but the look in his eyes told Saïx that the redhead understood all too well.

He released his old friend, slipping his hands into Axel's. Once again they fell into a comfortable silence. Saïx sighed again.

"You know, you're like a little kid sometimes… I can't stop you, but I want you to promise me one thing, alright?"

Axel nodded.

"Don't hurt yourself any more."

Axel paused for a moment, sniffled and winced painfully, then ended up crawling up into the bed with Saïx, even though it probably wasn't such a good idea. He needed someone to hold him right now, anyone, and who better than his spiritual twin? Saïx obliged willingly. Even these emotions were a tad misdirected, he really didn't mind so much. They were Gemini: one and the same but perfect opposites.

He wanted to protect his little brother.

The insanity baked off of him like fever, searing on his pale skin.

"You keep on looking ahead," Saïx whispered, shifting so that Axel could curl up against him, "I'll be here to watch your back for as long as you need me."

"You… remembered it…" Axel grated, his voice both painful to use and listen to.

"Of course," Saïx chided, "My hindsight really is 20/20, you know."

"_Oops. Forgot who I was talking to."_

"You're so dumb sometimes."

"_Just forgetful," _Axel shot back, _"And besides, I'm crazy. I have an excuse."_

"Whatever," Saïx laughed.

There was a long silence and Saïx found himself drifting off when Axel roused him with a question that drove all thoughts of sleep completely from his mind.

"_Saïx… if I…" _

A few chaotic thoughts leaked from Axel's stream of consciousness, and Saïx could feel the confusion, the rage, and the horrible sense of guilt.

"_If I were to die… would it save him?"_

"There's only one more strike. I'm confident that you'll both make it through," Saïx answered too quickly. He knew Axel was suspicious now.

"_That's not what I asked. Tell me the truth. If I died in his place… would he live? Would he be able to continue on?"_

Saïx sighed deeply averting his eyes to stare out the window at the urban sprawl.

"Yes," he said finally, "If you were to die in his place, he'll live and grow old. There's no escaping death in the end, you know."

"_I know… but I want him to live a long life. I want him to be happy."_

"Do you think he will be happy without you?"

Axel smiled.

"_Painters…"_

"What?"

"_He'll understand. When I die, tell him I told you that."_

"Then you've come to terms with your mortality?" Saïx rumbled, "You're a fool."

"_Wasn't I always?"_

"Just… wait until he pulls through again. He deserves to have just a little more time with you, don't you think?"

They fell into silence once again.

This time it was permanent.

--- ---

According to Wikipedia, Turpentine is this:

"**Turpentine** (also called spirit of turpentine, oil of turpentine, wood turpentine, gum turpentine) is a fluid obtained by the distillation of resin obtained from trees, mainly pine trees. It is composed of terpenes, mainly monoterpenes alpha-pinene and beta-pinene. It has a potent odor similar to that of nail polish remover. It is sometimes known colloquially as _turps_, but this more often refers to turpentine substitute (or mineral turpentine).

"The word _turpentine_ is formed (via French and Latin) from the Greek word _terebinthine_, the name of a species of tree, the terebinth tree, from whose sap the spirit was originally distilled."

Through research, I discovered that turpentine has many uses. The most common is as a solvent for oil based paints, production of varnishes, and as a raw material in the chemical business. The thing is, using real turpentine for painting has pretty much been abandoned when they came out with types of synthetic turpentine distilled from crude oil.

Among the more bizarre uses, it's used to de-worm people… well, it was a while ago. It's still used in the killing of body lice. It's one of the main ingredients in Vicks Vapor-Rub. The most surprising to me, though, was that it's added to a lot of cleaning products because of its antiseptic properties and it's "clean smell".

No wonder Axel hated cleaning the floors so much.

Ever wonder why Pine-Sol is called _Pine_-Sol?

Anyway, among other things, the hazards of turpentine vapors include burning of the skin and eyes over long term exposure; respiratory and nervous system damage over long term inhalation; kidney failure and eventual death after consumption. That's just the short list.

Now that I know all of this, I wonder why he wanted to die that way… why he wanted to die in so much horrible pain.

Guilt.

He was so heavy with guilt and he wanted to atone, I guess.


	24. Her

_Hmm... I'm wandering about. I was thinking I don't want to languish in the Demyx inactivity... or I just don't feel like writing without him. I think I'm in love. lol. Anyway, here's a little bit of fluff, angst and a happy reunion. I think Naminé might be one of my favorite characters in KH:II cause she's so damn shy, but so pretty. XD I know. Not much reason there. Anyway, she's here... and yes that means Roxas is with her. To AkuRoku lovers: Sorry... Demyx is Axel's man in my book. To AkuRoku haters: don't worry, they're just friends. I'm not even going to kid you, it's not that I don't like the pairing, it's just that I'm a little more sure they were just friends (as gay as they sound in all of their scenes together. lol) and I want to keep it that way for poor Demyx's sake..._

_Please note that Naminé is the only person allowed to call Demyx "Demy". He'd hurt anyone else. Badly._

_Anyway, please read, enjoy, review, repeat :D ... I love you guys, btw. You brought my hit counter all the way past 4000 hits on this! I'm so happy I could squeal (and I did) or maybe break some stuff (I've yet to do that). Cheers! Cookies for all :)_

* * *

"_I hate snow!" Axel griped, trudging along behind Demyx who was whistling cheerfully, still dressed as a drowned zombie. Axel's outfit… well, there was only one word to describe it: fruity._

"_You match well, though," Demyx laughed, "You look like strawberry shortcake out here!"_

"_Shut up," the redhead grumbled._

"_So are you a red betta or a phoenix? I still can't tell."_

_Of course, he was commenting on the big filmy wing and tail pieces of the outfit that billowed behind the older man as he moved. They were rather restrictive and a source of much turmoil for the redhead because they were constantly getting caught on something or other._

_Demyx's answer came in the form of a particularly large snowball to the back of the head, the force of which sent him sprawling into a snow bank._

_He sputtered and rolled over, floundering in the cold wet stuff, but there was a warm press suddenly, and he ceased his struggling. Axel's lips just barely touched Demyx's and for some reason, Demyx felt like he was suddenly in a completely different world… not this tiny little corner called Christmas Town… no, he was laying on an endless white beach with a fire burning beside him and a heart beating strong in his chest…_

"_I think I love you…" Demyx whispered softly._

_Axel smiled, "I think I love you too…"_

_--- ---_

_There's a fatal error. A weak spot._

"_Demyx… he makes me… he makes me _feel_."_

"_I don't understand…" Demyx whispers hoarsely, "I don't make you feel that way?"_

"_It's different… the love you give me… is different."_

_Axel sighs and turns away, refuses to look into those hurtful blue eyes. They're hurtful because he made them like that. The love that Axel gave him was an insult and the guilt of it weighs heavy on his consciousness… settles lead-like in that hollowed pit in his chest._

"_Well, I'll wait for a while…" Demyx sighed in defeat. "I'm sure he's… a sweet kid."_

_--- --- _

_For a while, Demyx was convinced that Axel really did love him at that point. After Roxas left, he seemed to be grounded in Demyx, but it was a cruel shock when Saïx dragged him up to the Alter of Naught one starless rainy night._

"_Strange…" the berserker mumbled, his voice somewhat muffled in the hood of his robe._

"_What is?" Demyx asked evenly._

"_He can't see what he has right in front of him. I've never seen anything like you… never felt anything like you… except maybe one..."_

"_Roxas," Demyx said, a pathetic sob escaping him. "Saïx… I need some time alone now."_

"_Of course," the blue-haired man replied, slipping away silently._

_Demyx felt his soul die._

_He was never quite the same again after that night._

_--- ---_

_Demyx waited in the hall on the first day they found the little girl. She was scared and confused, and for some reason, she wouldn't trust anyone but Roxas._

_Now that he was so horribly lonely, he never really took any time to socialize with anyone, and he felt it a waste of time to even talk to her since she would probably just run away. But one night, he was surprised. She was at the doorway to his room, swaying lightly to the music he was playing on his beloved sitar. He stopped playing abruptly._

"_You can come in and sit if you like…" he offered._

_She seemed indecisive, but slowly, she inched forward until she was standing next to the couch against the wall near the door. She slid down onto it tentatively. Taking that as his cue, Demyx began to play again, tapping out a light, lilting melody like the sound of a small stream rushing over smooth stones._

"_Why do you play happy songs when you're sad?" she asked suddenly. "It doesn't sound quite right when you do that…"_

_Demyx looked shocked._

"_I… I don't know," he replied honestly._

"_I can tell you're a good person," she said softly. "My name is Naminé."_

"_Demyx," the sitar player said softly, extending his hand. She rose and took it, shook it and stood there with a sweet smile on her face._

"_Will you be my older brother like Roxas? He protects me usually, but he has a new friend and he can't come see me as often now."_

"_I know what you mean," Demyx mumbled with a little hiccupping sigh. His voice was a little shaky, but he continued, "Yeah… I'll take care of you. I have nothing better to do, after all."_

_--- ---_

_Walking down this white hall, the only sound to keep him company was the click of his boot heels against the smooth white tile. It had been ages since he'd been fully decked out in his Organization uniform and eons since he'd seen these halls. Castle Oblivion had always seemed so resplendent all of the time, but Demyx knew well that this was just a construct of his shattered mind: the place where memories were stored, and here he was so terribly stuck until fate should decide to release him._

_He wandered aimlessly, sifting through old memories now and then… happy ones, sad ones… painful ones. It was all very repetitive, but somehow comforting._

"_Demyx…"_

_He looked up, brow furrowed in confusion. A little girl stood in the hallway… a little blonde in a white dress and somehow he couldn't quite grasp who she was…_

"_Come here Demyx!" she called with a little chuckle._

_He obeyed, stepping forward and darkness engulfed him._

--- ---

Demyx finally came to in unbearable pain. He moaned weakly.

"Shh, it's alright…" a young woman whispered softly. Her tone was strangely maternal.

"Where am I?" Demyx mumbled, cracking his eyes just enough to see deep azure eyes much like those of the little girl in his dream. "Who are you?"

She smiled and laughed a little, pushing her pale blond hair out of her face. Demyx suddenly noticed his pain started to taper off somewhat.

"I should probably be offended, but you never were all that bright," she teased, "How could you forget me? I'm the one you promised to protect!"

"N… Naminé," he whispered, a weak smile curving on his lips. She slipped a hand into his and he gripped it gently.

"Yeah… but I'm Lizzie now. You know, I'd been wondering how long it would take you to show up. I know you and Axel have been having some brushes with fate."

"How… did you… get in here?"

"I'm a nurse, silly. I realized who you were just now… you were kind of close to death for a while there. We were worried about you."

"We?"

"Me and Axel. I saw him too. He's doing well."

Demyx sighed.

"That's good."

"Yeah… are the painkillers kicking in yet?"

"Yes," he said softly, trying to raise the volume of his voice just a little.

"Don't push yourself. You're still pretty weak right now."

"I noticed," he laughed. "So… am I in the ICU or something?"

"Yes. You've been out for about two weeks now, I guess," she said softly. "Axel called your parents just as soon as it happened and he's been showing them around the city. Xigbar and Marluxia are here too. Roxas has been pretty psyched with helping out with keeping everyone busy."

"Roxas…" Demyx breathed, sounding almost horrified.

"You don't need to worry… they may have had that little tryst… but you know what? Axel loves you. He loves you so much it's scary," Naminé assured, "He and Roxas are kind of just man-friends. Weirdoes. All they do is talk about professional wrestling and how big Jessica Simpson's boobs are."

Demyx laughed, wincing at the pain it started up in his belly.

"Yeek. I'm sorry, Demy. I shouldn't do that to you," she apologized.

"No," he laughed, "It's alright. Laughter is good for me. I thrive on silliness, remember?"

"Yeah… I better call the doctor. Since you've come around they'll probably move you out of intensive care," she smiled softly at this, "And then you'll get to see your husband."

"I don't believe in marriage!" Demyx grumbled, but it came off sounding pathetic because of his current state.

"He's still your husband, whether you like it or not."

"I remember the time you tried to marry the cats," Demyx giggled, "The way you're talking now brings it all back."

Naminé huffed, "Well, now I wish you hadn't woken up for me. Sheesh!"

"Thanks for that… I forgot to mention."

That was the right thing to say, alright. She smiled.

"You're welcome. I'll be right back. Don't you dare go to sleep while I'm out, alright?"

"I won't," he promised as he watched her go.

_Since when was she so goddamn beautiful? I guess I never really got to see her all grown up…_ he sighed softly, his mind returning to thoughts of Roxas and Axel. Demyx was concerned that Axel belonged to _him_ alone. He was not willing to share. _I hope this doesn't change anything…_


	25. Too Late

_I really like this chapter... Saix acts so frigging stoned in this one. Lord knows he probably is. And Demyx is out of ICU and thusly a happy man. He and Axel fight briefly... but it's good for them. LoL. Roxas hangs about in this chapter. Demyx fights with him too in his own special little way... They're like oil and water for the most part. Naminé acts ungodly cute and ummm... I don't think I mentioned to dogs. Oh well. I'm thinking about devoting a section of the story to the dogs alone... like the Dog chapter... Should I?_

_Also, I'm working on a 100 theme list that I'll post on my LJ pretty soon... that's at http:// i-am-and-i .livejournal. com/ try to pull out the spaces in that and you'll get there. All also post a link in my front page. Hopefully this will be fun for you guys. I smile._

_Off to play Okami now. Ta-ta! Farewell! Bye-bye!_

_PS: Read, enjoy, review, repeat! LOL_

* * *

There were always small things to celebrate in times like these: namely, the removal of several very uncomfortable tubes, wires, and so on. Demyx took a moment to savor it, eyes still lidded, a small smile of contentment curling on his lips. He felt he was going to slip back into sleep, but there was a warm press of lips on his cheek and giggle that sounded so much like wind chimes that he couldn't mistake it.

"I know you're up, Demy!"

"I am," he replied, his own voice still strangely unfamiliar.

"I'm off duty so I figured I'd give Axel a call and come see you while he's on his way," Naminé informed. She smiled softly and ran a hand across his chest. "I… I wonder if this is really real sometimes."

"So do I…" He replied, taking her hand gently, "But… I know I'm happy. I've never felt so whole in my entire life. Even if this were nothing but an illusion, I'd be content."

His violently ocean blue eyes fluttered open and locked on Naminé's with a deeply intense gaze. She smiled, but it enhanced, an expression of relief when she realized what he was talking about.

"So you're enjoying your heart?"

"I am."

"Never take it for granted… and don't lose it Demy," she whispered.

"Too late," he replied with a sly little grin. "A certain redheaded demon already stole it away. It's on lease, love."

"I told you he's your husband!" she tittered, hiding her blush behind her free hand.

"Maybe," Demyx admitted, nodding a little, "But really, I'd say he's more of… a lover."

"Not quite as intimate…" she disagreed.

"You really think so? Romeo and Juliette were just lovers… they had the most beautiful love I've ever read!"

"That's a book!"  
"Play, actually," he corrected, "Let me think… I don't know. I just feel like it takes more effort to stay bound to your lover, and that's what makes it more intimate. You don't have a rope tying you up with that person so you have to remind yourself every time you're tempted."  
Naminé seemed to think about this, and then smiled broadly with understanding.

"Oh, I think I know what you mean."

"Naminé," he finally said after a long pause, "Did you fall in love with me?"

"What would make you think that, Demy?" she laughed, pulling her hand back. She was a bit too quick, or maybe her acting skills were a little bit crummy. He couldn't decide.

"Remember the time you kissed me?"

"I was only thirteen…" she said shakily.

"You were so embarrassed that I actually had to catch you. Xigbar thought I'd raped you for a month. I'll never forget it," he laughed. "But… do you remember what I did?"

She smiled.

"Yeah… you just held me," she whispered, "Until I fell asleep. It's one of my favorite memories."

"Me too," he admitted.

He sighed and shifted a little, winced as his staples pulled a little.

"Take it easy," she mumbled, "I can't have my big brother ripping himself open."

"I don't see why they had to cut me open like that," he rumbled irritably, "It's only a little bullet."

"Yes, but it also went into your belly," Naminé said pointedly, poking his side delicately. "Pull down the sheet and look. They had to open you up like that because the bullet wavers in its track. They had to contain the bleeding, clean every little bit of the wound and make sure there were no fragments or bones broken."

"Still," Demyx mumbled, tracing the track of the incision with a hovering finger. It was ugly, starting at the bottom of his ribs and terminating almost at the starting point of the hip.

"It'll heal. You'll have a scar, but that's sexy sometimes," Naminé teased.

"It _is_ sexy, Demyx. Axel would say his trademark phrase, but he sounds like a dying cat at the moment," an unfamiliar voice laughed, light and mocking.

Demyx looked up and caught sight of deep blue eyes much like Naminé's, wild golden-blond hair and a snarky grin.

Axel said nothing but shoved the kid out of his way.

"Oh, hey Roxas! And Axel, welcome back." Naminé called, a cute grin on her face. She slid out of her chair and Axel seemed to settle in it just as soon as she was out of the way.

"Long time no see, Rox," Demyx practically grated.

"Damn, Demyx! Talk about attitude problems!" the blond laughed, "But then, I kind of expected you'd hate me."

"I don't hate you…" Demyx mumbled, "well… not necessarily, at least."

"I'm not going to take him from you. I don't think he wants me as it is," Roxas laughed with a shrug. "I won't push you. I just hope you can forgive me some day…"

Well, he sounded sincere at least.

"Dem…" Axel rasped, effectively drawing his lover's attention.

It was a hair-raising sound.

"Axel… what did you do?" Demyx rumbled menacingly.

The redhead looked like a naughty child all of a sudden, lowering his head guiltily.

"Um… we're going to go now," Naminé said softly, "Axel, Aerith told me she's letting Saïx go today. I went and talked to him and he said he was going to crash at your place because he shouldn't be alone with the medications he's on."

"That's fine," Axel replied. His voice really was like a dying cat's.

"Alright. Me and Roxy will take him home… oh… and what about Demy's parents?"

"They said they'd come in a few."

"Okay, well, we'll give you two some time alone," she gushed, "Bye-bye! Ta-ta!"

"See ya around!" Roxas called over his shoulder, being dragged out of the door by his flaxen-haired girlfriend.

Demyx waited until they were really gone and laced a hand into Axel's hair and tried to pull the redhead closer gently. Seeing as that didn't work, he tried to ease himself closer, only managed to raise searing pain in his stomach that left him wincing and gasping at each little movement. Well, at least it prompted Axel to jump up and come a little closer.

"What… did you do to yourself… you idiot," he panted, caressing the redhead's soft, pale cheek.

"I hurt myself," Axel admitted.

Demyx reached up and cupped Axel's cheek in his hand. Before the redhead had time to get his bearings, Demyx had given him a firm openhanded smack right across the cheekbone. Axel fell back on his ass, spine jarred from the impact. He kneaded his sore cheek while Demyx moaned from the strain he'd just put on the staples running up his torso.

"You fucking retard!" Demyx moaned, "I need you here and you were off trying to kill yourself? That's so fucking selfish!"

"Like you should talk," Axel laughed.

"Shut the fuck up you cheater!" Demyx sobs.

Well that was unexpected.

"Demyx."

"No!" he growls, hiding his face like a small child.

"Demyx, look at me."

"No! I refuse!"

"Demyx! Fucking look me in the eye right fucking now!"

The blond obeyed haltingly. He knew he'd find something he didn't want to see, and indeed that look of terrible guilt was back… a guilt that could crush even the strongest heart.

"I wouldn't cheat on you. I learned what that accomplishes the first time around, didn't I?" he asked sincerely. It was then he realized that Axel was holding his ring in his hand. "They took yours away for now… I want you to hang on to mine in the mean time…"

"You're giving it back?" Demyx moaned in despair.

"No!" Axel barked, and Demyx winced. Instantly contrite about the effect, he softened his tone again, "No… I just want you to know that… you have all of me."

At that, Demyx reached up and pulled the redhead down, tangling his hands in that thick red mane. Their mouths met roughly. As soon as it had occurred, it was over, and Demyx lay there, gripping Axel's hand in his, the ring between their palms. He stared out the window in the most strangely forlorn way, even if he had been relatively assured that Axel was true to him.

"What's wrong?" Axel asked softly, the constant harshness of his own voice causing him to wince a little.

"I hurt. And I hate being stuck in bed like this," Demyx sighed.

"What if… I bring a book next time. I'll read to you."

"I'd like that…" Demyx said, a little smile washing over him. It relieved the redhead to see that his lover was still capable of a smile.

"Do you hate Roxas?"

He knew very well that it was a bad question to ask, but he needed to know. Demyx was silent for a very long time, the expression on his face completely impassive and unreadable.

"I don't hate him," he admitted finally, "But… I just don't want to lose you again."

"So it's still competition you're freaking out about?"

"And militant, hospital-dwelling Bedside-Confession Christians…" Demyx laughed.

"Be serious for a minute… do you really think I would chose Roxas over you again? I don't even have any reason to really like him any more."

Demyx thought about making a comment on that, but he realized that he too was pretty fucking shallow and selfish in those days.

"I trust you. If I didn't there would be no point in loving you," he replied evenly.

Axel smiled. He looked like he was going to lean in and give Demyx a tender kiss, but there was a knock at the door, and they held it off. Axel left soon after Demyx's parents arrived. The kid would need some time alone, after all.

--- ---

"Axel, I honestly don't know how Saïx stays that skinny. It's not fair at all!" Naminé laughed, pointing out the blue haired man who was casually consuming a can of frozen orange juice concentrate on the couch. He really didn't seem to give a shit that Naminé was making such a fuss about his feeding habits.

"Welcome home," he called absently.

"He does that all the time, Nami. It's just about the only thing I've ever seen him eat. Leave him be," Axel sighed, a silly grin painted on his face. "How is Berserker-Boy anyway?"

"Hungry," said berserker replied instantly, "For meat. Red meat."

"Raw fucking red meat!" Roxas proclaimed, emerging from the studio. "You should paint a photorealistic portrait of a side of beef or something, Axel."

"You people are all so messed up," the redhead laughed.

"Not me!" Naminé cried.

"Alright, not Naminé. The rest of y'all are."

Roxas laughed and Saïx allowed himself a haughty, "Humph."

"I need to go shopping anyway," Axel admitted, "Come on, Nami. We'll get some stakes to feed the lion with and maybe some cheerios for the little kid."

"Hey!" Roxas grumbled.

"Scratch that," Axel laughed, "I forgot. Steaks for the lion and bananas for the monkey! We're running a veritable zoo here, Nami!"

"Oh I so hate you!" Roxas laughed, "You'll pay for that, porcupine-butt!"

"Whatever!" Axel called, dragging Naminé out the door with him. She was laughing the whole way down to the car.

"You're still a big fat jerk," she commented.

"Of course I am. Once a jerk, always a jerk."

"Never change, Axel," she said softly, pulling him into a warm hug.

In his mind, Axel felt a little twinge of guilt.

_Sorry Nami. Too late._


	26. The Mirror Crack'd

_OMFG! I'm sorry I took so long on this... I totally fell in a rut there, but don't worry. This won't die like my last epic did. I've gotten far too attached to this story. Anyway... there's some teasing done in this chapter. Sorry guys :P No action just yet._

_Now for the shameless plugging. XD_

_You all need to seriously love my beta. Mousewolf pulled my out of my little rut and set me back on the big bad broad road to hell for this fic. So expect more soon, and give mighty props!_

* * *

::: The Mirror Crack'd :::

_There's relief._

_Axel can see the slow rise and fall of that well muscled chest. It's a long way off, he can tell, because the scar on Demyx's stomach is nothing but a purple line, flat against his rippling toned stomach. He has no idea how the kid can be so ripped and so damn thin at the same time, hard and lean while if he gains any real muscle, it bulks in a way that really doesn't suit. They're complete opposites in that respect._

_Demyx sleeps well, and at the same time, he's turning a lovely golden color. He's brilliantly beautiful._

_Axel turns over. His belly is a painful shade of lobster-red. He really doesn't mind so much though, although it does amuse the part of him that was his past life. If he gets skin cancer, fine by him. Who cares about hastening the inevitable?_

_Demyx stirs._

"_Ugh," he moans, "My scar is burning. Think we should call it a day, love?"_

"_One more swim," Axel insists, and they both take to their feet, plunging into the cold blue depths._

_The world is quiet here._

"You can't live forever."

A deep voice, cold as the desert at night. Frightening in its confident bleakness.

"Wh… What? Who are you?"

_Demyx is looking away into the distance. His eyes are dark, tear-stained._

_For some reason he keeps apologizing._

"We were all doomed to return to the darkness from whence we were born. Don't forget that, Number Eight. Never forget that."

_The blurry image of a tombstone._

"Time is fractured."

"Saïx? Saïx!"

There's no doubt of soft and smooth baritone, of its owner. Terribly emotionless and flat.

_Demyx's hands hesitate, but his will is made. He firms his grip on the ugly Colt .45. He cocks it and holds it up, fascinated by the way the light seems to dance on each jagged corner. It's black and the flat sides absorb the light, swallow it and eject it only at the corners…_

_He wishes he hadn't been so bright… so blinding._

_For the first time, there's real insanity in his blue-blue eyes, fragments of sapphire that cut and tear._

"He's right, Axel. Time is fractured beyond all reckoning. You have the power to rearrange it as you please. The future is your mirror."

It's that frightening voice again… rich basso, dark-bitter as expensive chocolate and so very full of malice.

"I don't understand!" Axel screams, "I don't fucking understand!"

_The image twists, contorts painfully. The deep blue is back, and Axel is so confused. He's drowning in premonitions… and all of them seem strangely false._

_He's standing in a snow-covered field and Demyx is laying there. He looks like he's sleeping, but it's the blue tinge on his lips, the grayness of his skin that tells the truth. He's frozen solid._

_For some reason, the term "Meat Popsicle" surfaces in his mind._

_He doesn't know what to think… what to say._

"_Is this him, sir?"_

"Time is fractured, Axel. Only you know where the tear is. Only you can put it back together again."

"_Sir?"_

"Saïx… Help, Saïx!" Axel cries, falling to his knees, clutching his head in agony.

"_Sir… please just stay calm!"_

"_What the fuck is going on?" Axel breathes._

_And it goes on and on, all night._

--- ---

Axel lurches from the bed in a blind panic and there's no where to run to, the dreams obscuring his vision and trapping the air from his throat. Leto follows, Zipporah trailing somewhat slowly behind. She's getting fat lately. Really fat… almost too fat to be possible.

Axel has been starting to wonder, but right now, he's too busy cowering in the corner of the shower, shaking against the cold tile. The feeling of it against his hot skin is almost soothing, in a way.

Saïx limps into the room, sees Axel in such a horrible state and ambles as best he can to the redhead's side. He seems pained, but he doesn't seem pained enough to keep him from kneeling and pulling the redhead to his chest to try and comfort him. He's hot like a furnace, his skin flushed, his heart is pounding so hard it's almost audible.

Saïx wastes no time. He calls Naminé because she'll know what to do.

She's there in under five minutes.

Another five pass and she's worried out of her mind.

Running a fever of 102ºF. His blood pressure is impossibly high. Heart rate is around 140 beats per minute. Understandably, Naminé is scared, but for some reason, Saïx corrals her, won't let her come near, won't let her touch the raving redhead.

She tries to break away from the blue-haired male, but he's so much stronger than her. He holds her back easily.

"Saïx! He'll die if you don't let me do something!"

"He'll die if you _touch_ him!" Saïx barks, baring his teeth at her in an almost canine snarl.

Naminé is instantly submissive, a lesser pack-member that knows its place. She allows him to pull her hard up against him, hold her tight against his chest. She can tell he's scared too – scared, or maybe excited.

"He's seeing through…"

"What?"

"He's gone into a deep trance. One I can't pull him out of." The diviner's voice is flat, stating the facts as medical science can't. "I told him he shouldn't shatter time like that, but he never listened to me. Now he's gone and got himself into a real mess, the idiot."

Naminé shifts, looks up at his face. "You can change the past, can't you?"

"If I really wanted to…" He bites his lip, almost. "It's just something you really don't do. You have to resist the temptation."

"I remember," Naminé says softly. "I felt so bad with...with Sora."

"Saïx!" Axel cries, half-rising. His eyes are wide, bright and glazed as the glass beads of the bracelet Roxas gave her for her last birthday. He claws desperately at something or other in his dream world.

"That's my cue," the berserker says softly, limps painfully to the bedside, catches Axel's hands in his as he sinks down onto the mattress. There's a look of pain, then he's blank; lifeless, cold and gray like the moon's shining face, almost serene.

Then the peace snaps, vanishes as Saïx wrenches up Axel, who's panting and coughing, lying limply up against the other man, and they hold each other much like rescuer and victim do as soon as the latter is pulled from a river. For some strange reason, Axel seems a completely different person, green eyes sharper than she's ever seen them in this life.

"I…" he breathes, still trying to find a way to synch the rest of his body with his racing pulse, mouth open in a half-grin. "I found… a way."

_And maybe… just maybe, we'll make it out of this alive…_

_--- ---_

_There's warm lips against his, warmer for the cold around them. He can feel the stale air forced into his lungs. Blue eyes in his vision. They're calm, collected, and cool but behind that thin layer is the stirrings of complete and utter panic, fear, confusion. Axel reaches up a hand, strokes the blond's cheek through the wire mesh before the blond surfaces for another breath._

_It's only seconds before he's dived back down, and he's tearing at the wire net again. Axel feels his lungs burning painfully, his heart surging in his ears._

"Truth? Truth is in the eye of the beholder."

_Axel can't hold it any more. His breath escapes in a flurry of tiny silver bubbles. Demyx reaches through the tears in the mesh, guides Axel forward, and presses his lips on Axel's again. He's losing his composure._

_His breath is heavy with clove. His mouth tastes like gin._

"You'll be the death of me… it'll be in a year, but it will happen."

_Demyx surfaces again, comes back down, and this time he grips the wire. He has his pocket knife in his hands, the nice one Axel gave him for their anniversary. How ironic._

_He's tearing at the wire, one boot slipped into an existing tear, the pocket knife pulled up against the top of hole, but it's not doing much. He applies extra pressure to the back of the knife with his free hand. There's a small crack and there's blood in the water. Demyx kicks up to the surface again._

_Axel loses his breath, looks up to Demyx desperately as he descends. The blond is quick, but Axel can feel his strength flagging quickly. This is torture. Demyx repeats his trip to the surface._

"I know how hard you tried. I'm sorry, Dem. I'm so sorry."

_He pushes Demyx away this time. Smiles and lets his breath escape._

_Demyx shakes his head, starts ripping at the net. His hands are shredded beyond recognition now. He can barely even get the stiff stuff to budge… and he gives up. Axel reaches through the netting and caresses his lover's cheek once before he nods, shoves the blond back in the direction of the surface._

_He can't help but wonder if it will hurt._

"It's so quiet down here…"

_A deep intake, sharp and resigned and deliberate. It's hard to tell the difference between the sound of his blood rushing in his ears and the sound of the ocean crashing far above him._

"So this is how it had to be?"

_The world is quiet here._

--- ---

Axel sat up, truly calm and sane for the first time in many years.

"You should enjoy it," Saïx said softly. The redhead jumped. It was the first time he'd even noticed the Diviner was sitting next to him on the bed.

"Oh…" Axel replied, "Yeah. I'll definitely enjoy it."

"It's only a few months… maybe a year. Only two years at the most."

"I know." Axel heaved a melancholy sigh, and a wry smile twitched the corner of his mouth. "I think I'm fine with that. He's the one thing I'll ever want to protect in this life. It was meant to be."

"You're such a prick," Saïx _hmph_ed his frustration.

"Always have been, always will." Axel laughed. "Will you do me a favor, Saïx?"

The blue haired male paused for a long moment, then finally spoke in a low voice. "What sort of favor?"

"Will you take care of him? You know… love him like I have?"

Axel knew he'd caused the older man a great deal of pain when a hand strayed up and he pressed his fist over his heart, looked away for a long time. It almost looked as though he wasn't going to speak again, but after the longest minute, he said in the formal tones of the Luna Diviner, "Of course, Axel. You have my word."

For the briefest of instants, the Flurry of the Dancing Flames laughed and spun in the back of his mind in response, then Axel smiled. _Thanks for everything, Saïx. I owe you. Feel free to collect in the next life._


	27. The Listeners

_So here we go... chapter 27. Just a prelude. there's some... uh... suggestive stuff in this one, so if you're not fond of this, avert thine eyes._

_Another chapter selflessly beta'd by my beloved Mousewolf. As always, go say thanks! This would have died long ago without her effort!_

* * *

::: The Listeners :::

Axel awoke warm and content, a soft smile spread across his thin lips.

"Demyx…"

"Yeah?" The blond replied sleepily, shifting against his lover's side. His hair smelled like clover, and though he was still somewhat weakened and diminished, he still felt just as sleek and beautiful as ever.

"You feeling any better?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, butting his forehead against Axel's. "You want to get up and make breakfast for me?"

"Sure thing. The pups need checking on, too." Axel laughed.

Demyx smiled. It had been quite the surprise, coming home from the hospital only to discover that Zipporah had produced thirteen puppies with Leto.

Out of all of them, Demyx really only liked one of the pups: the only one of the three long-haired pups that was close to Zippo's color. He'd named her Lavender because she looked almost purple when the light hit her just right. Of all the rest only two of the shorthairs had this coloration, but still the purple wasn't quite as obvious. All the rest were black and tan and marked like dobes.

Needless to say, they were having a hard time managing thirteen three-month-old puppies. Axel happened to be less than patient as well, so now there were fliers up, and today they were giving the pups out to whoever decided they might want one of their own.

Axel rolled out of bed, padded through the apartment to the pantry door.

"Hey, Axel!" Demyx called.

"What?"

"Let Lavender and Zipporah out, please?"

"Alright."

Demyx stretched until the scar on his stomach started singing with pain. It wasn't a bad pain, though. No, it was something more along the lines of how his legs felt when he got his casts off and first started walking on them. It was a pain that meant healing.

He rolled over at the sound of claws on hardwood, smiled as Zipporah lunched herself up onto the bed and curled up. She'd been unusually clingy with Demyx lately, but he liked that. Saïx had told him she'd refused to let Axel—or anyone, for that matter—leave while she was having the puppies. He wished he could have been there—despite about a thousand comments from Axel saying otherwise—so he made it up to her this way.

"No dogs on the bed, Dem!" Axel moaned as Lavender sprang up onto the mattress and began harassing her mother instantly.

"Too bad!" Demyx laughed, "Where's Leto? We'll make it a party up in here. When you get back your spot'll be all nice and warm for ya."

"You're a monster, Demyx. A genuine monster," Axel sighed, "You are _so_ undoing all that training."

"I want a friend, not a slave," Demyx replied evenly, pulling Lavender into the crook of his arm. She rested her little head on his chest and passed out almost instantly.

"So when should we auction off the kids?"

"We should be able to now… I mean they're getting close to three months now… and really… they eat a whole fucking lot," Demyx laughed.

There was a loud sizzle from the kitchen and almost immediately after, the smell of frying onions. Demyx had a momentary mental celebration.

"I'm making the Eggs of the Gods. Bow down and be thankful to the Divine Axel!" the redhead called from the kitchen, amusement clear in his tone.

"O Holy One! I am abased! I am not worthy, my Liege!" the blond almost fell off the bed laughing.

Zipporah whined, yawned and sniffed Demyx's scar like she had almost every morning since he got home, and licked it a couple of times. Demyx smiled and stroked her affectionately until she finally settled down and went to sleep.

"Good girl," he whispered, looking over just as Leto whined too. He rarely ever did, but ever since Demyx got home, the dobe was strangely depressive when Demyx wasn't giving him any attention. The blond patted the sheets next to Zipporah and Leto hopped up onto the bed, laid down next to Zipporah and laid his head down on her shoulders.

"I'm going to post the papers for the pups today," Axel called, "There's a couple of chicks from Tech that want to take a look at the pups. Better hide Lala. Naminé really wants her even if Roxas is dead-set on one of the black and cinnamon longs."

"I want Nami to have Lala," Demyx confirmed. "She's my favorite, you know. And Nami would take really good care of her."

"Well, Lala's the only one with a definite name… and Naminé is the best. Ever." Axel laughed.

"So we're not just giving them out, right?"

"Fuck no!" he growled, "I'm doing my research first. Even if it takes a year, I'm getting these guys to good homes 'cause every one of them is great."

Demyx smiled and closed his eyes.

"Will you sing for me, Axel?"

"No," the redhead replied instantly.

"Why?"

"I sound like shit."

"I don't care how you sound, I just want to hear your voice. You don't read to me very much anymore."

The sound of eggs cracked into the pan. "I know…"

"Do you love me?"

"No," he replied softly, poking his head around the corner, green eyes deadly serious. "I don't love you… there's no word for how I feel. Love doesn't even cover it, babe."

"You're amazing," Demyx laughed, "You actually got me a little worried there."

A smile quirked Axel's lips, but some of that sadness remained. "You worry too much."

"I know."

"It's only 'cause you have such a good heart. I'm envious sometimes." The redhead turned away, and he could hear the sounds of Axel muttering as he messed with the eggs in the pan. For whatever reason, it always sounded like he was praying or something.

Demyx lay there and just listened to everything around him. Axel's low speech, the popping of cooking food, the combined wheezing of the dogs, the sound of the air conditioner rattling, the people downstairs laughing like idiots. All of this had become so familiar. It really wasn't all that long before Axel laid a warm plate on the blond's stomach.

Demyx roused easily enough from his trance. He was careful not to wake Lavender when he released her, and as soon as he was free, he sat up and dug in.

"Looks like you're feeling a lot better now," Axel commented.

"Yeah," Demyx confirmed between bites, "It's not throbbing anymore… the muscles don't pull so much when I'm moving."

"Good," Axel replied, pushing another large load into his mouth. He was relatively normal now, his body was as thin and lithe as ever. Demyx consumed the last portion of his eggs and practically swallowed it whole, dumped the plate on the nightstand. Axel took a little longer, but in that time, Demyx had walked around to that side of the bed and found a way to curl up in his lover's lap. Axel placed his plate aside even though he wasn't finished. He'd learned that sacrifice would always be very much a part of his life whether he liked it or not, and making the right choices was always so essential.

Demyx pushed the redhead down against the sheets, dragged himself up on top of the redhead and bent his head into his lover's long hair.

"You're definitely feeling a lot better now, huh?"

"Mmm…" It was Demyx's only reply. He was aroused in the highest, Axel could always tell. Four months without sex could do that to you easily, even if Demyx had been so self-conscious that time. It had been his first time—no doubt about that—but he'd been almost_ too_ hesitant. Even for a virgin.

"Dem… do you think it's okay?"

A grunt, but the tone was an affirmative.

"No, I mean your stomach… you can barely walk."

"I… I need it," he breathed.

Just like the virgin to suddenly turn into a nympho. Axel reached down and pressed his fingers to the smooth skin. Demyx shaved and he'd almost had a fit about his state of hairiness when he first got home, proceeding to disappear into the shower for almost four hours. He'd emerged slick as a baby's ass and just about as soft. That had been one of those nights where Axel spent a while in the shower too… but he'd been indulging in other things.

Axel slid his hand down beneath the waistband of his lover's boxers, took a firm hold on his manhood.

"F-fuck…" Demyx panted.

Axel only laughed in return.

Demyx winced a little, threw his head back and moaned like a whore when the other hand found him, caressing in the most insidious way.

"Stop fucking with me," he breathed, leaning down to bite Axel's neck _hard_.

The redhead gasped, but continued stroking, leaned up to catch an earlobe between his teeth.

"It's a shame," he whispered around the soft flesh, "they took out those earrings. They looked good on you."

Demyx let out a gravelly moan and continued his ministrations to Axel's long neck. He definitely had a fetish.

The blond suddenly snapped out of it and caught Axel's lips roughly, snaking a hand under his waist to pull him up against. Axel gasped harshly at the sensation of the blond's hips grinding hard against his own. He withdrew his hands and slung his arms around Demyx's waist, burying his face in the blond's neck.

Axel's hot breath on his neck only served to arouse Demyx further. He'd gotten it the first time, and now he was itching to give.

"Lay down," he ordered, dropping the redhead roughly. Axel obeyed, grinning like a wolf.

"I seriously knew you were the kind of guy who wants to be on top all the time."

"You don't remember?" Demyx taunted, sliding out of his boxers.

"Now I do… but we were pretty even split," Axel replied, lifting his hips so Demyx could strip him of his clothing as well.

"Well, fire-crotch. Let's see if I can remember some of those tricks."

He leaned over and reached under the bed for the shoe box where Axel kept his impressive selection of condoms and lube.

"Dem… look, I'll just blow you and we don't have to worry about you ripping yourself open."

"I want to fuck," Demyx replied firmly.

Axel snorted. He was starting to sound like Larxene. "Dem…"

He paused at that tone. It was a painful sounding voice, sort of sad even. It turned Demyx off hard-core.

"What, love?" he said softly, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice, "What did I do?"

"Nothing, just - just take what you want."

Demyx winced. "Shit… I didn't want to…"

"No, it's fine," Axel deadpanned, "I really don't care."

"Don't lie," Demyx sighed, "Look… we'll wait. I'll wait. I'm going to take a shower."

He stood up and padded silently into the bathroom, turned on the water. He didn't close the door. He never did anyway, and no one really cared so he never bothered with it.

_--- ---_

This what he writes, in his head. His writing and his rite, insubstantial and strong as memories or dreams.

_I like to sing in the shower. I like the water so damn hot that I can feel skin cancer developing between muscle and ruddy cream-colored firmament. I like to lift my voice so loud that the neighbors call, as they complain incessantly, incessantly, incessantly. They're like those ugly little white lap-dogs with the Napoleon complex and the insatiable desire to gnaw your legs off.  
_

_I sing in the shower and don't hold back. Sheryl said it was unnerving the way I can pitch my voice just right. It's hard to distinguish that certain cry from a roar of pleasure or agony. I warble, I moan, and I drag my over-long fingernails down the cold tile, listen to the dry screech of keratin on ceramic that was baked in a 1000 degree oven. I love the feel of the press. My chest flat against the contrastingly cold wall. I can feel my ribs grating as I heave for breath, my heart swells, rebels against the hard surface like a caged animal. I can feel the burn deeper down, somewhere between my lungs, a little right of the heart. It is a pain that is harder to describe than anything else I have experienced.  
_

_When I am in the shower, sins I have committed seem to melt away like soft wax candles under the sun. I bellow my laughter as the filth spirals down the silvery white drain. And the softness of clean skin. I turn the water all the way to the left until it is colder than comfort permits and I stand there. It feels like being trapped in a glacier, but it's also just as pleasant as my boiling water. My skin steams like fresh spaghetti, and looks just as yellow-white. I'm nothing but toothy grin and rigid, baked flesh. Every day, sometimes more, I know exactly what a roast feels like when it comes out of the oven, or how lasagna noodles must feel before being laid into the baking dish. It's a wonderful feeling.  
_

_My eyes look tired though.  
_

_Tired. I've been tired for weeks. Crazy for longer.  
_

_And lonely? I can't even remember.  
_

_I lay naked in my bed. It's just a mattress on the floor, but I like it. Those soft, stupid beds they make. I need something firmer. My back hurts if I sleep on the couch. My back hurts anyway, but the straightness of the floor seems to remedy that. Usually. In Florida, when the air conditioner is off, you sleep without blankets. You don't need them. It's just rained and the window is open. The air is baking at a semi-tropical 85 Fahrenheit. The humidity is enough to drown you. It isn't long before my body is lightly shimmering with sweat. A shower undone so quickly. It means nothing to me.  
_

_I scratch leisurely. I know I shouldn't as I have just shaved, and it's going to give me razor burn. I remember how the other kids used to laugh at me. I hated body hair since I was a small child. I shaved as soon as I had it and was teased relentlessly for it. It doesn't matter much, though. I think my personal opinions are better than any some bastards believe. I think the best thing you can do is listen only to yourself, and not what anyone else says. Any else doesn't know who you are. So yes. Make your own damn decisions.  
_

_I roll over on my stomach and watch my snake prowl in his enclosure. He needs to be fed. I cringe at the thought though. Killing a rat. It's my duty, because no one else wants to do it, and I don't feel like paying vet bills. Those are more frightening than thoughts of mortality. I've been having those lately. I light a stick of Dragon's Blood incense. It smells like an ashtray filled with rose petals. Smells like crimson and gray. Smells like hair. Burning hair. Or singed flesh. Smells like death. I love it. Death by any other word is still death. If our brothers have gone to sleep, then we should wish them well and pray for the day that we might follow.  
_

_Satan is in the back of a police car somewhere in the state of Massachusetts. I'm sure of it. He's probably drunk, and the officer has no idea on God's green earth who he just cuffed. Satan is probably bawling about how this is a false arrest and kicking and cussing and fighting, and then realizes that he is Satan, the supreme evil, and kills the cop with a derisive snort and a twitch of his forked, tail. Satan is a cross-dresser in platform heels with messy lipstick. He breaks the cuffs and quietly slips into the night like the blood oozing slowly from the officer's strewn guts.  
_

_I begin to wonder why I'm thinking this way, and decide finally to put on some clothes. There's a knock at the door. Sheryl is smiling. She's holding a half-empty bottle of Jack and staring at my half zipped pants. I don't really care what she sees or what she wants to see. I let her in, go to the couch, and draw out the Jäger I've been stashing beneath it.  
_

_Shots.  
_

_Shots.  
_

_Shots fired.  
_

_Her hair smells like sex.  
_

_I deny her, and go to sleep with her reaching boldly down my open fly.  
_

_It feels wrong.  
_

_Her hands are like ice.  
_

_But a shower will cure what ails me.  
_

_What ails me?  
_

_Memories are a poison more potent than 1000 gallons of snakes' venom. Are a pain worse than an arrow through the heart. Are a drug more intoxicating than that yellow cocaine you snorted off of Paris Hilton's glossy, magazine cover face. Meth head. Meth teeth. Meth in your dirty hands. All those memories I have make me far more stoned than you could ever be with all those horrible things you have. All I need is to live in the past. It's pleasant there. You can easily cut out the bad memories, and if you can't, you can simply figure out a way that you could have made things better.  
_

_I am just a child.  
_

_And I live in my memories. I live in days when people really did love me. They loved me for who I was, and not for what they could take from me. I roll over and expose my vulnerable stomach, neck, face to her. Her advantage is immediately exploited and I don't stop her.  
_

_I could never say I don't like it.  
_

_Even though I don't._

--- ---

Demyx has been writing this for the four years he's been away, and it's all packed firmly in his head. It harkens back to a time when he was most miserable.

It serves to remind him.

"Hey, Dem."

"What," he mumbles, bending his head under the shower to rinse the conditioner out of his hair.

"Sorry. I was just kind of weirded out."

"I know. I was being a bitch. I'm sorry."

"No," Axel said softly, "I can't blame you. You've been out of commission for a while… it's only natural you'd be kind of tense."

"You're not a stress reliever, Axel. You're not an inanimate object, and I refuse to treat you like one, alright? I'm almost done in here."

"Yeah…"

He could hear Axel shift a little.

"I'm gonna go take care of the pups."

And with that, he vanished.

--- ---

"Oh, god, look Megan! They're so adorable!" the brunette laughed, picking up one of the black and cinnamon long-hair pups.

"I know, Lisa! We totally have to take him home with us."

Axel smiled at the girls.

"You two are completely sure you're ready for this kind of responsibility?" he asked for what felt like the fiftieth time.

"Yes," the blonde, Megan, replied. "We're going to be around a lot of the time because it's summer and I've had a puppy before, so I know how tough it can be."

"Okay, but if it ever gets to be too much, you can bring him back here. We won't turn him away, no matter the circumstances. Get him neutered as soon as you possibly can, alright? We'll pay the expenses. Come hell or high water, we'll pay the bills for hip-dysphasia or anything like that… we'll give you a new pup if you want."

"You're great," Lisa laughed.

"No," Demyx called from the other room, "He's a dick. He's just acting nice. You guys would like him better when he's being an asshole."

He limped out into the living room where the girls had the puppies out, Zipporah walking sedately at his heels. The brunette looked up with the most seductive bedroom eyes Axel had ever seen. He couldn't help but smile smugly. Demyx returned her sultry gaze with a singularly cocky grin, his fair aqua eyes backlit and beautiful in the golden afternoon sunlight.

"Anyway, you girls find what you like?"

"Yeah," the blonde laughed, pinning Axel with an overly-friendly smile. He leaned back into the couch. He definitely had a thing for blonds. He probably would have scored with a woman that night, but Demyx decided to do the more amusing thing. He plopped down right in Axel's lap and gave him a less than chaste kiss. He pulled back panting lightly, wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist and smiled at the girls who seemed to have already known.

"God, that was hot…" Axel laughed, "You're such a prick. In front of company and everything."

"Everything's better with an audience," Demyx smirked, settling closer.

"It is," the sultry brunette laughed, "You two are gorgeous…"

"Delicious," the blonde echoed, "We get so lonely over at Tech…"

"Feh," Demyx laughed, "I'm sure. All those weird nerdy boys and all get old pretty fast, huh?"

"Yeah," the blonde sighed dramatically, "You have _no_ idea!"

Demyx smiled, his eyes like shark's. "Oh, I might have _some_ idea…"

* * *

_The quote about dogs that Demyx made up in there, the one about not wanting a slave: that was pretty much a direct quote by the illustrious Mousewolf during one of our epic conversations._

_Longest chapter since the second... hope you all enjoyed! Read, enjoy, review, repeat!_


	28. Tear You Apart

_Another long chapter... yep. Hopefully this will keep you guys busy for a while. :)_

_Songs in this one that inspired: Closer Nine Inch Nails; Tear You Apart She Wants Revenge; Drive Incubus_

_Lyrics are Drive Incubus_

_Lots and lots of work from Mousewolf in this one. It's to the point where I'm considering it a collab. Go give thanks and homage!_

_Please note that there's graphicness in this chapter... by and large, it's relitively artfully written, but avert thine eyes if you're not a fan of the lemons. Um... this is another disturbing chapter in a relitively disturbing story. Hope I'm not jerking you all around too much. LoL._

_Read, enjoy, review, repeat:D_

* * *

:::Tear You Apart:::

Demyx was so crazy, so excited.

He was dancing, dancing, dancing, the eerie purple light of the black lights lighting him up like some sort of acid-tripped roman candle. Strobes and lasers made inscrutable patterns over his glowing skin, light on water in a subterranean cave. Axel wanted him, wanted him, wanted him from the bar, but his legs were like jelly.

He was totally hammered.

Completely smashed.

Pretty damn stoned.

So strung-out that everything, every little trick of light, was magic.

He had a pretty girl to touch, enough E to choke a horse, weed to last him a year, booze to spoil his liver, and a hit of acid, which Demyx had already used his own and he was so fucking beautiful right now. He was brilliant as the glitter-gold on the sea, so very beautiful…

"Demyx…" Axel whispered to himself, a smile curving on his lecherous lips.

"What, babe?"

Some girl… she's pretty, but not like Demyx. Not at all. She doesn't move like that… she doesn't have that perfect, beautiful body. She can't create that kind of friction, electric and taut. She doesn't lie down and beg for more with her legs spread flush to the mattress, lips smiling and eyes too deep. She doesn't have those endearing blue eyes. Lovely, jewel-bright eyes, tropical tides just before a fucking hurricane rips it all away. Eyes like tsunamis that stop his heart cold.

"No, I need him…"

"Who?" she asks, leaning in and grabbing the redhead by his stubbly chin. He's forced to look deep into her hazel-green eyes. She's too young for him, really. "I'm here. I'll do anything you want."

"Fuck that. I want him."

"I know, baby, but he's having fun…" she crooned, straddling his hips so that she could cuddle his face against her ample breasts. Axel heaved a frustrated sigh.

"I don't want no fish taco tonight," he said evenly, disentangling the woman from him, "Sorry, I'm drunk, but not enough to be seduced. I'm gonna go dance."

"Well, fine. Fuck you," she grumbled, buzzing off angrily. Axel lurched to his feet, found Demyx moving like the divine creature he was on that dance floor. God. He could have passed for an angel or a demon… anything with boundless beauty and a magnetism that you just can't deny. Axel tried to force himself to break the moment, but he realized he really didn't need to in the first place. Demyx reached out and pulled the bony redhead hard against him, running his lips up and down the lines of the redhead's long neck, once, twice, nip at an earlobe, thrice.

"Move!" he breathed, dragging Axel into a hopeless situation of sexual tension and frustration, tossing like a black sea of oblivion. He was drowning fast.

Axel tried to bend as the blond required, tried to keep the pace, but he always managed to slip up, managed to knock the beautiful blond out of his godlike rhythm, but Demyx just smiled and pulled him back close, smoothing bony hips against his own sinewy body. The magic didn't last terribly long, though.

"I… I-I-I can't breathe!" he wailed, as he suddenly stumbled against the redhead, scrabbling against his chest for purchase.

"Dem, are you okay?" Axel panted, pulling the blond into his arms, trying to steady him.

"I want out!" he yelled, muffled, burying himself in the older man's chest.

"Come on," Axel said soothingly, half dragging his lover off the dance floor despite the confused glances and out of the club. Demyx shuddered deeply as Axel set him down on a concrete wall, and indeed, his lips were tinged blue, his face was ashen, he was panting heavily.

"I'm scared…" Demyx moaned quietly, clambering messily into Axel's lap. The redhead shushed his lover absently, tucking the younger man's head beneath his chin. Demyx sobbed quietly, shaking slow and even against Axel's chest, but slowly, the strangled note in his breathing subsided, the trembling evened out, the sobbing melted away.

"Hey! Hey, is he alright?"

It was Lisa, the girl who had invited them.

"Yeah," Axel replied, "Right, Dem? Just needed a breath of fresh air."

There was no reply, so Axel leaned back and tipped the blond's head up gently, smiled softly at the realization.

"Aww," Lisa gushed, "He's out like a light, huh?"

"Dun turn the light off…" Demyx mumbled, burying his face in the crook of Axel's neck.

"Yeah…maybe. Shit, I'm drunk. I can't take him home now," Axel sighed, "What am I going to do now?"

"You don't sound drunk…" Lisa mumbled, "But you could always take a cab?"

"Yeah, but my car…"

"Just leave it here. No one touches our college junkers," she laughed, "If it's your stereo you're worried about, outside looks usually keep people away."

"Well," Axel said sheepishly, "I've got a brand new 'Vette…"

"OH!" she cried, "So you're the one with the awesome car! Wow… so you definitely shouldn't leave it here."

"Do you mind driving us back to my place? You're sober, right?" Axel asked, making his best puppy-face.

"Sure," she said softly, "I haven't touched a thing tonight! Scout's honor!"

"I'll pay your cab back, alright?" he said softly, shifting to eek his keys out of his pocket without waking Demyx.

"No need," she replied, taking the proffered key ring with a sweet smile, "I'm sure you need the cash. I just want to help you all out. I wasn't right for us to drag you out here like this."

Axel cradled the limp blond in his arms, staggering only momentarily on his unsteady legs. Demyx mumbled something completely incoherent and twitched, but didn't wake up. Axel grinned sheepishly, gave a half shrug.

"Shall we?"

--- ---

Lisa slept on the couch instead of going home. Axel didn't mind.

It was good sex, after all.

Demyx lay completely oblivious in the bed next to his lover, snoring lightly into the pillow. For some reason, Axel felt horribly dirty. He had only the vaguest memories of the whole affair, but it was definitely a drunken act that he didn't really know if he could have stopped. He lifted his hand to stare at the little silver ring on his finger, feeling the little pits and ruts like eyes, vindictive, pinning him to the sterile white sheets.

"Hey," she whispered softly, a pretty smile on her goddamn beautiful face, "I'm glad you're awake…"

"Sorry. I was really tired…"

"You have a hangover, right?"

"A little," Axel admitted.

"Yeah. I'll get you some of my pills. They work," she insisted, "Trust me!"

Lisa padded silently over to her purse and returned with a couple red capsules in her hand. Axel didn't even ask. He just sat up and took the pills from her, popped them quickly. She blushed and laughed and he realized he was still naked, the sheets riding far too low on his hips.

"Sorry."

"No, really, it's- it's fine. You're - uh, great in the sack. Really."

It was Axel's turn to blush.

"About that…" he whispered, "I don't remember so much…"

"Really? You were definitely drunker than you looked then," she laughed – no, _giggled_, goddamn her, "You put him down and we chilled on the couch for a few hours. It was good."

"Yeah…" he couldn't help but let his despair show through on that one. He swallowed hard and gathered the strength to speak again, "You can get a shower if you like…"

"What… did we do?" she asked quietly.

Axel sighed heavily, turning to gaze upon Demyx's sleeping form.

"He- he's my lover," he explained, "If he believed in marriage, we'd be…"

"Oh, my god," Lisa breathed in shock, "I'm so sorry, I'll leave."

"No!" Axel hissed, catching her by the wrist as she made to flee. "Wait. Just because I made a stupid mistake doesn't mean I have any right to neglect my duty as gentleman."

"No really…"

"Go get a shower. I'll make you some coffee and breakfast, and then I'll let you go. This whole mess is my fault anyway, so I'll take care of it."

"You're sweet," Lisa said softly, "I can see why he loves you so much… I won't tell anyone."

Axel remained strangely silent, still staring at the ring on his finger. "…Thanks, I guess."

"Don't worry about it so much… but…" Lisa started, twiddling her thumbs a little.

"But what?" Axel inquired, brow furrowed lightly.

"It would be best to tell him as soon as possible. If he really truly loves you, he'll forgive you. Of course it might take a while, but he'll forgive."

Axel shook his head.

"You're right…"

--- ---

Demyx lay on the couch and looked at _the_ painting. The one that had been abandoned for the most part since his arrival, and he glared and he seethed. Lisa and Axel were laughing, laughing, laughing their hearts out in the kitchen, and boy, oh boy, Demyx was ready to kill her. Nice guy he was, he resisted the urge to the point where he was only claiming to be anti-social due to his headache.

He could tell Axel knew better, though. He could lie, but if you caught those blue eyes just right, you could pin him.

Demyx had done it to the redhead a couple of times this morning in return though, and now he was definitely ready to put the hurt on his lover. For one reason or another, memories of the Nocturne buried deep in his subconscious surfaced, and he could feel the swelling of an ocean he'd never known in this life, but it was so familiar.

Felt so strangely familiar.

_The swell of the tides, the crash of the waves, knowing what it was to drown and never drowning, being held up, and up, and up forever it seemed_

He stood and walked into the kitchen, settled himself against a door post, his sweater fallen down off his shoulders, boxers hanging from a thread. Minus any other form of covering, he knew how seductive he looked right now, and he'd use that to his advantage. Lisa looked over, her bright amber eyes glancing from head to toe.

"Hey… you guys like music?" he asked reaching up to scratch the back of his head. He gave his hair a perfunctory ruffle and gazed at both hollowly, an old, odd smile twitching his lips.

_The sea breathes, stirring from sleep in caverns deep. With rings on his fingers and sprites on his toes, he barters his music wherever he goes_

"Yeah, what do you have?" Lisa replied quietly. She was nervous. Good.

"Well, when I get my guitar, you can pick my brain, but there is a certain song I had in mind."

"You play?" she asked, an excited gleam in her pretty eyes. Little girl at the seaside, giggling at the light dancing on the water and unknowing about the riptides.

"Yeah. You thought I was talking about CDs or something, huh?" he laughed, stalking out to the studio. He ignored anything else while he was popped open the battered guitar case that held his beloved instrument, the one that Axel had so willingly abandoned to his care. He almost abandoned his other instruments entirely in favor of the old Marten. It had a soul.

_Blue as death and oddly shaped, with a wailing, howling song like a squall in a peaceful bay_

He picked it up and slung the old back strap over his shoulder, stood and walked into the kitchen. With very little flair, he plopped down in front of the refrigerator and started playing without any hesitation.

Satisfied, he lifted his voice.

"_Sometimes I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear  
And I can't help but ask myself _

_How much I'll let the fear take the wheel and steer  
It's driven me before, it seems to have a vague  
Haunting mass appeal  
Lately I'm beginning to find_

_That I should be the one behind the wheel  
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there  
With open arms and open eyes yeah  
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there, I'll be there…_"

Lisa watched enraptured, her hand resting light and warm on top of Axel's, her fingers just barely curled beneath his. Demyx looked up, a look of terrible seriousness in his eyes, now opened up into the reservoirs of deep sapphire. The depths of his soul laid bare in the most inconspicuous ways…

Deepest water, where the wild things are. Rich and strange and dark.

And for him to use this song… making such subtle comments on his lover's character… Axel couldn't help but think he would have toasted the little bastard if he'd still possessed the ability, and his lip lifted a little from his teeth at the thought.

"_So if I decide to waiver my chance to be one of the hive _

_Will I choose water over wine  
and hold my own and drive?  
It's driven me before and it seems to be the way  
That everyone else gets around.  
But lately I'm beginning to find  
that when I drive myself my light is found.  
Whatever tomorrow brings,  
I'll be there with open arms and open eyes.  
Yeah. Whatever tomorrow brings_

_I'll be there, I'll be there…_"

Axel turned away, both shameful and feeling a little irked that the blond would even dare say he was just like everyone else… He'd worked hard on his non-conformist image.

Demyx kept singing. He didn't mind that Lisa was crying. He didn't mind that Axel was burning in the extreme heat of his own shame and increasing anger. He smells burning and it makes him smile even as he makes that promise broken over and over.

Maybe this is how it feels?

For a split second he had the most explicit memory of lacking, of desiring something so terribly, and his breath caught in his throat, his chest concaved painfully. He curled in upon himself, clutching at his chest in agony, the guitar's flat back smooth against his stomach. He moaned, not quite in pain, but at the ghost of the terrible pain-not-pain-not-quite-despair, eyes squeezed shut.

"Dem! Dem, are you okay?" Axel whispered his hands suddenly hot on Demyx's cheeks.

"I remembered… it was horrible," he breathed, gritted, _glared_. "I'd forgotten… you made me, Axel."

"What?" Axel blurted. _Where did that come from?_

"Uh, I-I'll go, if you want me to…" Lisa half-whispered shamefully.

"Get out." Demyx hissed, water over sand as the tides recede too far, earning a less than friendly glare from Axel.

"I'll drive you home, hon. He's… he's acting very childish right now," Axel admonished, standing and stomping off into the main room. Demyx literally _growled_, but he couldn't quite contain the note of frustration on his voice. He had to seriously push down the urge to back-hand her when Lisa knelt at his side, a cool hand placed gently on his shoulder.

"Demyx, it didn't mean anything. He- he was really, really drunk and I was… I wasn't thinking. It's not his fault… blame me, please."

"Ha, I do. _And _him. No excuses," he breathed, "Get out of my house."

"I… for what it's worth," she said softly, running her hand down to Demyx's clutched so tight to his chest, "I'm sorry I hurt you. I won't come back."

Demyx heaved a sigh, caught her hard around the wrist before she could slip away.

"I've learned something, and I forgive you. You couldn't have known… but if you ever come back… I will hurt you, badly."

Her eyes widened when she saw he was serious, turning and leaving as soon as he relinquished her wrist. "Yeah, you two… you need to talk to him."

Demyx's interest piqued on that one. "I…"

"No. I'll take a cab," she said, a note of humor in her voice. "I hope Megan lets me come home."

"Alright… have a good one. I'll give you a call sometime."

"No, you won't," she laughed, and the door shut quietly.

_**Water**__ is the most abundant molecule on Earth's surface, composing 70-75 of the Earth's surface as liquid and solid state in addition to being found in the atmosphere as a vapor._

Axel wandered back into the kitchen, pressed his back against the wall opposite his lover and slid down into a boneless heap on the floor. He couldn't determine his current state of mind: if he was pissed to hell or just anxious, he couldn't tell.

_Water has the second highest specific heat capacity of any known chemical compound, after ammonia, as well as a high heat of vaporization (40.65 kJ mol__-1__), both of which are a result of the extensive hydrogen bonding between its molecules. These two unusual properties allow water to moderate Earth's climate by buffering large fluctuations in temperature._

Demyx sat there, glaring like something you'd find under the bed in a horror movie.

"Dem…"

"What?" he snapped, deepening his glare further if that was even possible at all. His eyes looked like shards of obsidian. Axel imagined it could kill angles, that look.

All angles, all gaunt bone and awkward bends. Axel sighed, got on his knees and bent down, forehead to the cold floor, hands locked over his head. "I'm sorry."

There was a long pause, but finally, a drawn-out sigh escaped Demyx's lips.

"How can I forgive you?" he laughed, "You're such a bastard, you always were!"

Axel gritted his teeth on a sharp comment. Thought for a moment.

"Demyx… be serious please."

"I am being serious! Can't you tell? You fucked me over while I was passed out drunk!" he roared, "How could I ever find a way to forgive me when you're the one that ripped out my heart in the first place? I loved you! I trusted you!"

He glared coldly again. This time Axel was on all-fours, glaring right back, bright acid eyes, the face so much more frightening and familiar.

_**Fire **__is a rapid oxidation process that creates light, heat, smoke, and releases energy in varying intensities. It is commonly used to describe either a fuel in a state of combustion (e.g., a campfire, or a lit fireplace or stove) or a violent, destructive and uncontrolled burning (e.g., in buildings or a wildfire). _

"Demyx, we won't talk about this."

"Yes we will!"

The Flurry of Dancing Flames. Number VIII of Organization XIII.

The Melodious Nocturne. Number IX of Organization XIII.

Fire versus water.

The never ending battle of elements.

"Orders, Demyx. We take them as they come. They were some of my first and I was eager to please and fresh without a conscience," he explained flatly, "Want to give me one good reason you could call that an excuse?"

_Fires start when both a flammable and/or a combustible material with an adequate supply of oxygen or another oxidizer is subjected to enough heat. The common fire-causing sources of heat include a spark, another fire (such as an explosion, a fire in the oven or fireplace, or a lit match, lighter or cigarette) and sources of intense thermal radiation (such as sunlight, a flue, an incandescent light bulb or a radiant heater)._

"It was wrong!" Demyx hissed, "You know it!"

"Could I have known at the time?" Axel returned just as harshly.

Demyx just sat there for a moment.

"I was happy once," he said flatly, finally, "Now look… you made me, Axel. You broke me, you bent me, you rearranged me and look what you have. Maybe it would have been better if I had died…"

"Fuck that!" Axel barked, "Is that all you can say? Are you really that fucking stupid?"

"I'm not stupid!"

"You never were the brightest penny in the box, Dem. Slow fighter, slow thinker."

"Fuck you!" Demyx hissed.

"No, fuck you until you bleed, you pussy!" the redhead returned, just as bitterly.

Demyx moved sharply, throwing himself to his feet. He tossed the guitar on the couch on his way to the bedroom and slammed the door behind him when he got there. Just as quickly, Axel threw it open, catching Demyx's darkened eyes with a strangely sultry glare.

"The fuck do you want?" Demyx hissed.

"You. You were always delicious when you were pissed off." His lips were curled into a slithy cheshire-cat's grin that was entirely unlike _this_ Axel.

"Get the hell out of my house!" Demyx grated, pushing the lanky redhead away from him, but he misjudged the strength suddenly born in those wire-thin arms. He fought but Axel had him firmly pinned to the mattress like a butterfly in a kid's extensive collection. "Get off of me, you goddamn rapist!"

"Shush, baby," Axel drawled, running his teeth along the smooth arc of a tendon on his lover's neck. Demyx writhed as he received a particularly rough bite. No doubt now, that this was the old Axel. He'd never been considerate as a lover.

"You're a fool," Demyx breathed, a smile that might be mistaken for 'goofy', (were it not severely out of context,) blooming on his features. "You're not as strong as you used to be. Poor boy, naught but charcoal and matchsticks now…"

"Come again?" Axel laughed, "If you're so very confident then why don't you…"

He wasn't able to finish that. Demyx flipped him roughly. His hands were heavy on the redhead's thin throat.

"I could kill you right now… but you deserve worse, you whore," Demyx breathed, grinding his hips against whatever would give him that so-needed friction. In this case, Axel's thigh, "You always were a whore. Maybe something worse…"

"So were you," Axel hissed, "Why do you think Luxord always hated you?"

"Fuck you…"

"You want to?" the demon beneath him laughed, reaching up to claw the blond's back painfully. Demyx growled instantly, closing his hands tighter. Axel choked, but still he smiled that little lip-curl smile, still those glass-green eyes burned like acid… and Demyx couldn't deny how much this stirred him. He laughed, leaned down to part his lover's blue-tinged lips with a rough kiss, more teeth and bite than tongue.

Axel moved like a wave beneath the blond, forcing him to moan deep and gravelly with each inch of burning contact.

"I'm… I'm going to wreck you…" Demyx panted, stalling.

Axel smiled like a hungry cat, running his tongue over his teeth.

"You haven't got the heart, water-boy." The words were out before he'd thought, his smile faltering for the merest instant, but it more than enough to rouse the blond from his momentary hesitation. Demyx smiled like a dead reef, white and sharp and a tombstone for a thousand ships.

"I do now."

Axel laughed as the blond ripped at his pants, then his boxers, stripping them away roughly. Axel sped up the process, sliding out of his shirt, tossing it off into the corner of the room. Demyx paused, eyes running across every inch of Axel's pale skin.

"You ready for this?" the redhead asked quietly, tugging on his lover's boxers.

Demyx replied wordlessly, falling on top of Axel, tugging down said boxers and kicking them into a corner. He shrugged out of his sweater and instantly blinded Axel with it, draping it over the older man's face. This was followed immediately by the sheets. While Axel struggled, Demyx reached under the bed, selected a lube. The click of the top popping off alerted Axel to exactly what was happening.

"Dem, take it eas--… SHIT!" Axel cried, eyes tearing. There'd been no warning. "Mother of god… fuck…"

"Holy…" Demyx breathed, enraptured in the feeling.

"Ngh! Demyx!" Axel groaned as the blond started his motion, aggravating the burning pain even further. His breath caught in his throat as the blond found the perfect spot, and his legs wrapped around the younger man's waist instinctively. Demyx gave a choked moan, back arching beautifully. His head dropped below his shoulders, over-long hair falling over his face.

Axel grabbed himself, giving some much needed attention to his aching member, but Demyx lashed out at him, one hand iron-hard on Axel's hips, the other constricting his throat painfully. The redhead choked, reaching up to grasp the offending hand. He gasped as Demyx began to thrust much harder than he had before, leaning down to kiss Axel's sweat-slicked chest.

"I… I found heaven," Demyx breathed, withdrawing the hand on Axel's throat to stroke him, rough and hard in time with his pumping hips.

Axel breathed a barely audible curse. It's good. Really good.

The redhead reached up and grabbed two generous handfuls of thick blond hair, yanked downward. Demyx let out a passionate grunt somewhere between pain and engrossing pleasure. The hands disengaged, slid down the blond's arcing neck, past tense, hardened shoulders, down to his chest. His body is like stone carved to perfection. Each individual section of his ribbed abs is like a plate on a suit of armor, but so warm… so soft to the touch, that skin.

Axel moaned, not caring who heard him. He's never been very vocal, but on the receiving end, he was more than happy give his opinion. This obviously tooted Demyx's little horn because he gave a short, feral bark of laughter. Demyx picked up his pace again, bringing them to the frantic point of a storm at sea, the sinking of a burning ship and Demyx finally sings.

Long and loud.

He grips Axel roughly, his thrusts becoming erratic, pained almost. The redhead finally comes, body going limp almost instantly. He's so tired it's beyond words. Demyx leans down, a hand on Axel's neck again, strangling, but it feels strangely good. He doesn't complain even when he's coming to the brink of passing out. His vision blurs, eyes flutter shut, but oh god it's so good. His body goes cadaver limp and he feels Demyx's strain, hears the agonized moan and there's warmth.

Demyx's hand vanishes, but he has no intention of taking a breath. This is good…

"Breathe, you idiot," Demyx panted, half lying on top of Axel's prone form.

Axel obeyed, sucking in a strangled sounding breath. Another wave of sheer, unadulterated pleasure washed over him. Demyx's hands returned, but this time they massaged Axel's neck gently, encouraging his crimped windpipe to open again.

"That… was… so… good…" Axel muttered, drawing out each word deliberately.

"Yeah… we should… do that more… often," Demyx agreed as he nestled his head against his lover's chest. He was so passive when it was all over. Axel couldn't ask for anything better.

"It's going to hurt like a bitch in the morning."

"It is morning," Demyx laughed.

A long moment passed while both tried to catch their breath.

"Truce?" Axel asked softly.

Demyx seemed to think about it, arms wrapping tighter around the other's waist.

"Only if you keep your promise this time… the only time I've ever regretted having a heart was a few moments ago. Don't make me feel that way ever again."

"I promise. I promise on my heart, Dem. If I ever break that promise again, you can kill me. You had the right to first time 'round."

The blond grinned. "Deal."


	29. Daisy, Daisy

_A breather... I wish I had more of this in store, but I don't. This Fic isn't about flying on a plane. No... it's about the plane crashing and burning. This might be the last real light-hearted moment..._

_We're winding down._

_Of course, this was beta'd by my beloved Mousewolf. Props are due! Go drop by and give her love._

_Read, enjoy, review, repeat... please?_

* * *

::: Daisy, Daisy :::

Demyx is still there, his head a familiar weight on Axel's chest. He smiles, the feelings of contentment and satisfaction spreading in waves across his skin, through veins and arteries and his very bones… his core vibrates with his happiness, and somewhere deep inside, someone curls up, asleep, practically purring, a Cheshire-cat smile still fixed to his features.

He gently rearranges his lover and jumps in the shower, Leto right behind as usual. He's just back. He's breaking back into the routine just like any other. 'Round and 'round and 'round his little world goes, and he's just finding his groove again even if his body feels like he got put in the spin-cycle for an hour or two.

It's just a reminder of their closeness.

He jumps out of the shower, turns Leto loose and makes breakfast for himself, covers up a portion for his sleeping lover. He debates walking to the dog park or painting. Considering the dull, aching pain in his nether regions, he chooses to paint instead, changes into his stained work clothes. To his surprise, _the_ painting is staring back at him with its goggle-eyed patterns, designs that blur from sharp edges of his insanity into the smooth arcs of his drunkenness, back into the pained repetitions of regrets and pain.

Axel takes the painting and he brings it into the main room, starts smearing it with paint made of silver.

Silver leaf gilding the terrible eyes that once belonged to Larxene, adds a little gold. It doesn't take long to change them. Demyx has long eyelashes like a girl's; longer than Larxene's were. He opens up the blue into a much deeper well like the ocean after a storm that stirs up the deep places. He plays and pushes until out of the darkness, this saving glance appears. He smiles and sets aside the brush.

It needs to dry.

"It's beautiful," Demyx says out of nowhere. There are tears in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" Axel asks softly, limping awkwardly to his lover's side. He's leaning heavily in the doorframe to the studio. Thin, wiry arms wrap around the blond's sculpted hips.

"I forgot where the pills are," Demyx admitted, a smile on his face but pain beyond reckoning in his eyes.

"You always forget, don't you?" Axel laughed. "Come on. Let's get you nice and numbed up. I could use some of that shit too."

--- ---

Sitting there, stoned and half drunk, Demyx smiled and finally said what he'd been thinking about for the past few weeks.

"Hey Axel…"

"What?" the strung-out redhead mumbled, yawning quietly.

"You know… I'm a musician…"

"So?"

"That means I'm musical…"

"And?"

"Well, I'm gay too…"

"Demyx, what exactly are you trying to imply?"

"Well, wouldn't that make me a Musical Fruit?" the blond finally blurted.

Axel laughed a little, paused to think about it, then started cracking up again.

"Yeah, Dem. It definitely makes sense," he gasped between laughing fits.

Demyx smiled winningly.

"Well, just call me Bean for short!" he laughed, "Now… lessee…"

"What?"

Demyx grinned brightly. "I woke up hungry today!"

"That's marvelous," Axel mumbled, slinging himself up off the couch.

"Yeah, isn't it?"

"And?"

"Okay," Demyx began, leaning forward and white-knuckling his knees, "So I woke up hungry and I haven't eaten anything yet…"

Axel snorted.

"Really?"

"Would you make me a sandwich?" the blond begged sweetly.

"Nah. I need to get back to my paintings. Oh yeah, would you call Saïx and finish that thingy you were doing with him?" Axel paused, tapping his foot, "Something about a piece of poetic prose…"

"Yeah… but I'm going to expire on the couch first, if I don't _eat_!" Demyx pouted.

"Hey, hey! No dying on my couch! It was expensive and it's my favorite one…"

"It's your only one," Demyx muttered under his breath. He perked up again in quick succession though, "So then you'll make me a sandwich?"

"Hotpocket?" Axel offered.

"Deal!"

--- ---

Five more people dropped by to examine the pups, and four left with new pets, one man actually taking two with him. And so, with only seven pups left and a nice wad of cash to pay their hefty rent, Axel was pleased. Demyx, however, was not so thrilled. He lay on the bed dejectedly, decked out in his kilt and leather jacket, stroking Zipporah's head lovingly.

"Dem, cheer up… I'm sure these people will do a good job…" Axel soothed, sinking somewhat painfully to the bed.

Demyx didn't look up.

"Dem, come on…" Axel sighed, arranging himself so that he could rest his head in the small of his lover's back.

"Aren't you a little sad that they have to go?" the blond finally asked.

"Yeah, but we can't take care of them… they were eating us out of house and home!" Axel sighed, "Hey, I'm calling Nami. It's Wednesday and I could totally go for some home-made lasagna…"

Demyx laughed, his voice still tinges with a little sadness, "You think with nothing but your stomach… how do you stay so damn skinny?"

"Alcohol. God's gift to mankind. Liquid bread."

Demyx sighed softly.

"Oh."

"Demyx…" Axel sighed, rolling onto his stomach and lacing a hand into his lover's hair.

"I'm sorry… I just…"

"Don't think so much."

"_Hey, come on try a little_

_Nothing is forever_

_There's got to be something better than_

_In the middle_

_Me and Cinderella_

_We put it all together_

_We can drive it home_

_With one headlight._"

Demyx smiled soft.

"Wh… why are you singing that?" Axel whispered, sounding suddenly very mournful.

"I'd think it would be how you'd feel if I died," Demyx replied simply.

They sat in a tense, but otherwise companionable silence.

"Demyx…"

"Yeah?"

"We are what we make ourselves."

"And?"

"It's us and them. I want to make myself yours."

Demyx smiled.

"Then come here, you big idiot," the blond laughed.

Demyx had work at 6:30 today.

The clock read 6:47, and it really didn't matter any more.


	30. Go Ask Alice

_They keep looking and looking but they never find_

_The thing that stalks in the back of his mind_

_Sorry guys. Morbidity returns. And so does someone else... someone bad... the end draweth nigh._

_Once again I'm going to have to tell y'all this was beta'd by the most wonderful person! Yes! Mousewolf did a wonderful job on this, putting flesh on the skeleton I wrote. Hopefully you guys can enjoy this..._

_I'm at a loss for what to say really... so um... just read, enjoy, review repeat!_

* * *

::: Go Ask Alice :::

Axel found he wasn't so fond of time, how it seemed to move fast one minute and slow in the next; racing and dragging like a broken VHS tape. Smoking a clove, riding the white horse, he watched Demyx's frenzied movements like he had almost every Friday night for the past two months. He's like the moth that dances around the flame but never quite burns.

They fall further and further down the rabbit hole, and though it's only supposed to be an occasional thing, there are times where Axel is scared because he wants more.

Demyx is a whore for the attention. His hips, his face, his brutal fucking eyes are known well now, and it's not often that someone will pass up the opportunity to dance with him. He's become something of a mythical creature. He creates tsunamis, hurricanes, goddamn sub-marine earthquakes of sexual tension in these places; Morse-codes created by the rhythm of his breathing, the undulations of his taut, whipcord body that carry so well in these dark places call all the worst kinds of attention.

And still, he only wants one.

His undying devotion, so uncharacteristic of the Gemini, is so wonderfully endearing.

Axel smiled, turned to smile at the guy next to him, his eyes gleaming like a cat's, like a demon's.

"That's all mine," he gloated, slicking back his thick red hair. In the black-light it almost glows like embers, but he's never needed any dyes to augment the color.

"God. I'm straight and I'm getting turned on watching him," the other guy laughs. He's buzzing pretty hard so he's probably saying things he never would in the waking life, "I'd go gay for some of that…"

"Heh. I thought I was straight once. I still am, I think," Axel admits, "He's the only guy… but he's the only person… you know…"

The other guy at the bar smiles. "I know exactly what you mean."

--- ---

Ah, like a god.

Divine light reflecting off of holy pools of deep waters. Something so very unnatural concealing darkness beyond reckoning. Where the light can't push past, latent resentment, pains innumerable. The light recoils from this. Wounds that would never heal unless someone took the time to cut away the scars, scrape out the filth, suture the wounds… but still… the infection is so rooted.

Demyx cries. His tears taste like the ocean dulled with rainwater. He knows because he always kisses the blond's flushed cheeks when he is crying. Demyx always cries and holds Axel tight, head pressed to the thin man's hollow chest. Hollow because something has broken. The wiring is fucked up somewhere, and the signals can't come through right.

Demyx remedies some of the problems, but he still can't help but feel so very inadequate like the band-aid slapped on a slit throat. No matter what they could have done Axel would die anyway. He'd die in heart, in head, if not physically.

_--- ---_

_It hurts me to write these things._

_At three in the morning I wake up shaking, looking for something to cool this burning in my head and I know somewhere deep in my heart how he felt. I feel that overwhelming guilt and self-loathing that he knew so intimately._

_Looking at old pictures, I tell myself that things were meant to be this way… sometimes I can feel him hanging around like he always did: the smell of burning cherry wood on a crisp autumn evening or cigarette butts in a beer can… he's there._

_He's here waiting, and it makes me feel better sometimes._

_But sometimes I can't help but remember how his eyes looked that night._

_And I know now why he hurt himself the way he did:_

_It was the only way he knew to show his love._

--- ---

Axel was a bleeder. A walking hemorrhage.

Despite all this, despite his slow withering, he managed to be bright, jovial, even loving and god he was ever so loyal. There were times Demyx forgot all about the shit they were so entangled in, and he actually enjoyed his time with the redhead. But then there would be those moments that reminded him and he would return back to that bitter reality that consumed his life thus far.

"Demyx…" Axel yawned, finally coming down from the peak of his high. He was always more sane, more stable at this point.

"Yeah, love?" Demyx mumbled, settling his head more comfortably on Axel's chest. The redhead's more muscular now, but still skinny. Scarily so. It's only gotten worse since the cocaine. His heart was thudding like a jackhammer, proving that the powder was still in his system playing with the controls. He was still slightly feverish, but he didn't seem to mind it so much.

Demyx can feel the steady throbbing beneath his cheek, hear it echoing hollow in his skull. He's fucked up too, but not quite the same way.

"I keep thinking about when we first met."

Demyx smiled.

Axel wasn't looking at him, but staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows cast by the streetlights outside as though thinking to befriend them. "You were so goddamn bright I thought I would go blind looking at you."

"You were like… snow… powder on the pavement that hasn't been touched yet," Demyx said softly, "I thought I was dreaming."

"You didn't act like it," Axel laughed, finally looking at him, stroking Demyx's ever-lengthening blond hair lovingly. It was too long to even style now, hanging almost down to his shoulders in front, almost to his hips in the back. He looked wild. The only thing that had been touched up recently were the long patches that covered up his sideburns—trimmed to fall only to his jaw line—and the shaved sections on the sides of his head. The fresh shorn sides prickled Axel's soft palms delightfully.

"I never do, do I?" the blond laughed softly, placing an uncoordinated kiss on Axel's stubbly chin.

"That's good…"

"Don't you… feel bad?" Demyx asked suddenly.

"What do you mean, babe?"

"If I'd acted like I felt, you probably would have run. I can be creepy sometimes."

Axel grinned. "I love you, kid."

--- ---

Axel woke alone again. His headache was tapering off now, but he had to wonder where the hell Demyx had gone. After a few moments of silence, he was finally able to pick up on the sound of water in the shower. Without any intent to warn Demyx, Axel rose and sauntered into the bathroom to take a leak. The blond always left the door open, so why should he have to announce himself? That would defeat the purpose.

He rounded the corner and casually went to his business, peeking into the fogged glass and grinning like the devil himself. Demyx's eyes were squeezed shut, his face set in a grimace. His breathing was quick and shallow as his hands working quick on the… problem that had probably roused him in the first place.

Axel always found it so rewarding to catch his lover playing with himself.

"Take it easy there, killer," Axel laughed, "If you like, I could give you some help…"

Demyx startled hard.

"Holy Jesus!" he bit out in terror, falling back against the wall.

"Yep, he's watchin' alright," Axel assured.

"Get out of town!" Demyx barked. The glass was clouded, but Axel could tell he was glaring.

"Nah… I think I'll stay for the party," he purred, kicking off his boxers.

Demyx didn't complain when the redhead jumped in.

They were close like that.

--- ---

A general lack of care seemed to pervade their demeanors. Saïx didn't mind it so much, hanging around with them as much as he did, but he worried.

Things were getting a little out of hand consumption-wise.

Bad habits.

Addictions…

Misdirected passions.

Gemini was finding a way to exploit every little angle. Sure they'd had their time back then, but Demyx was acting too much on that, and worst of all Axel seemed to be eating it up. It was like he didn't even give a shit anymore. Indeed he didn't.

He couldn't say he didn't like it.

Axel's cheering like a fucking lunatic and Demyx has his head below his shoulders like when he's trying hard, his chest heaving, body shimmering with a patina of sweat. Saïx is gasping, and they're barely even doing anything short of dry-fucking, but it's oh! It's enough to elicit a hoarse gasp from the ex-Berserker as Demyx slides downward again. God, he moves like a woman should, but at the same time, he's terribly dominant and alone in this.

And all Saïx can do is hold on and hope not to drown, as much as he doesn't want this.

Misdirected passions.

Meat, chemicals, a little bit of emotions made of acid on litmus.

Lemon rinds burn when you squeeze them because they're full of rich oils.

Saïx is that wedge of lemon rind, Demyx is the squeeze, Axel is the fucking flame as ever. The catalyst to all this screwed up shit that's been happening in his life and it doesn't seem like any of this will stop any time soon.

All he can do is hold on and pray not to drown in this sea of flames.

SOS.

Ship's going all the fucking way down.

Axel is a monster, Demyx is his pet. Or vice versa.

And Demyx is going down…

And Saïx has to admit: It's pretty damn good.

--- ---

The puppies are gone, so Demyx and Axel have more time to relax these days. They invite Roxas and Naminé from time to time and Saïx inevitably shows up like he knew all along and they all just hang out and enjoy each other's presence. Nothing more, nothing less.

More often than not, Naminé brings them her secret recipe lasagna.

They all like to watch vintage movies or watch Axel paint one of his new masterpieces. Axel has finally talked to Luxord again and though the terms are a little shaky, they were selling art again. Larxene came over and met Demyx. They got along pretty well, so now they invite the two over to socialize from time to time, and though Axel still hemorrhages like a burst artery, the insanity seems to be easing. Things are coming back to a delicate balance.

The dogs sleep on the bed and Demyx smokes a home-rolled cigarette crouched against the bedroom wall with his hands planted firmly on his aching thighs. His sweaty back is flat against the wall and he's trying to breathe slow and even, but he can't. His head is spinning.

Axel moans and shifts in his sleep.

_Don't wake up… don't wake up…_

He breathes into a cupped hand, exhales, takes a long drag from his cigarette, burns it down to the cardboard filter and grinds it out on his own forearm.

That pain is real at least.

_(stop it. you were always a weakling but this is pathetic!)_

"Shut the fuck up!" Demyx moans as another wave of nausea rips though him. He clutches his aching head, vaguely aware of something warm dripping down his lips, chin, falling on the floor.

Tastes like salt, iron… blood.

_(do you want to save him or not?)_

"Why won't you tell me who you are? I know… somewhere in my heart I remember you and you weren't good…"

_(you always were the foolish one, number nine. your heart deceives you. give it to me and I will be able to save him…the fool already denied me and look what's happening to him.)_

"No, I'll never give you my heart…"

"Dem?" Axel mumbles, "Demyx, are you okay?"

The blond winces and kneads his temples roughly.

"F-fine…" he breathes. It was a bad lie.

Green eyes narrowed, and he had the feeling it wasn't quite directly at him. "Demyx…"

"It's… Xemnas," Demyx breathes, "He's like a shadow, a-a fragment of a memory… I only remember his name."

With a smile on his face, an impossible brightness in his aquamarine eyes, he finally crumples to the floor in a senseless heap.


	31. House of Wolves

_That's right, kids! More installments of Turps coming to you all the way from Atlanta, Georgia! (Yes that's really where I am at the moment. This is a pretty neat area it is. ) There's not so much to say just yet._

_Of course, this was beta'd by the amazing Mousewolf, so go give thanks. _

_Thank you all so much for all your reviews and all the time you've wasted reading this foolishness. I can't tell you how much it means to me! _

_So, without further a due..._

* * *

:: House of Wolves ::

_Blood._

_To break the curse, blood must be drawn from the throat with a needle dipped in the ashes of a rose mingled with holy water. The exorcist must draw this blood with his lips. The blood must then be mingled with fine oil. Inscribe a cross over the heart of the afflicted using this blood and oil. Burn incense and gather the implements of exorcism around the afflicted._

_Pray._

Demyx watches the coils of smoke languidly float up to the smooth ceiling. He can't focus though. There's a burning pain in his skull, white-hot fire-fog like a morning-star sunk into his frontal lobe. He can't really bring himself to care, though, because he's so far gone.

_To open a window._

_Sweet water, catalyst._

Saïx is there. He can tell. It's the way the Berserker's hands are so gentle and smooth when he works, taking a pulse, wiping away another crimson runnel originating from Demyx's nose. He's crying blood but that's not quite as urgent as the nose because he chokes on the latter from time to time.

_An ashtray full of rose petals._

_Ring-o-ring-o-roses, a pocket full of posies…_

The smell of cigarettes and dirt… burning flesh and hair from the singes Saïx received from his carelessness. The sound of holy water being poured into a wineglass, the rose ashes stirred lightly. The clink of the needle being dipped.

_Blood of the purest heart._

His fingers press lightly on the readily throbbing carotid, and gently he presses the needle down, breaks the skin and bends to his task. Demyx's corpse-pallor, his coldness is unnerving and he can tell with the way Saïx hesitates, and he wishes disjointedly that he could make the sun come up again. It doesn't take much effort; a delicate suck starts the blood flowing profusely.

Saïx sits up and for the first time, Demyx can see him, lips crimson and shining like they were smeared with rubies. His fingers are pressed tight to the tiny hole.

He grimaces as he releases his mouthful of blood into a second wine glass held out by someone else, and he can't quite move his head to make out who it could possibly be. Someone else's hand replaces Saïx's on his throat, and Demyx moans softly. He's so frustrated, helpless like this with his body not his own.

_Oil amber._

_Flesh and bone._

Saïx's lips are still sticky with Demyx's life, but he's making no effort to wipe it away, instead focusing on mixing in the warm amber oil with the blood in the wine-glass. It's holy oil. The scent of it is heavenly. As soon as it's in the glass the blood separates. He sets it aside and gently lays his head on Demyx's chest, listens.

"Is he okay?"

Naminé's voice. There's no doubt in Demyx's mind as to who it is. She sounds very worried.

"His heart rate is slow… very slow, but at this point we don't need to worry about it so much… it should pick up soon." The blue haired man leans up again, pinning wild strands of silvery-blue behind his ear like a woman would. His scarred face is so solemn but his gold eyes look haunted, worried.

_Crux._

As soon as Saïx draws that strangely mystic symbol, it lights painfully. Demyx gasps and writhes against the agony of its burning.

_X marks the spot. _

_Right between the deadlights._

There are rosaries… an ancient bible… things very personal and dear to Demyx and Axel together. He feels them resonating in him, compelling the thing in his brain to shrink away. Xemnas is not fond of this sort of attention. Emotions repel him due to his lack of a heart. He is stubborn, though, and clings to Demyx's weakening shell.

_The parasite will not wish to leave, even if it is killing its host._

"It's not leaving…" Saïx all but moans. His hand is tense on Demyx's belly.

"Xem…nas…" the blond chokes out, curling in upon himself, and Saïx suddenly withdraws, flinches as though hit.

_No…_

Naminé screams somewhere along the line, shrill and angry like the cry of a sparrow, no doubt being held firmly in place by the ex-Berserker. Lord knows she can't stand seeing her beloved brother in such pain. Saïx is saying something slow, quiet. It takes him a moment to realize, but Demyx almost wants to cry when he figures out that Saïx is praying. "…_Gratiam tuam, quaesumus, Domine, mentibus nostris infunde; ut qui, Angelo nuntiante, Christi Filii tui incarnationem cognovimus, per passionem eius et crucem ad resurrectionis gloriam perducamur. Per eumdem Christum Dominum nostrum…__"_

_Get out of my fucking head!_

There's no break in the agony, no letup from this burning all through his body and he tries to call out for someone, anyone to save him from drowning in this insanity looming like a maw in front of him.

_I can't… take this any more…_

"Axel!" he beseeches in the throes of his agony, "Find me!"

His desperate plea is enough to stir both Saïx and Naminé into frantic action. Saïx leaps to Demyx's side, holds the youth gently as his body quakes, acts of its own accord, and Naminé rockets into the living room, roughly shaking the exhausted redhead awake. He's been up for three days straight looking after his lover and lord knows he's tired but he needs to be there now more than ever.

He needs no urging.

Demyx hands are claws, scrabbling against Saïx's broad chest, over-long nails biting into porcelain white skin easily. The wounds are superficial though, and the older man is more worried about the look of agony and horror on his young friend's face. Fair aqua meets blazing gold.

_Tempering is the process of dipping a red-hot metal into chilled water so as to harden said metal._

For a moment, Demyx loses himself and what looks out of those eyes is the very root of all their problems, steel and red-amber and cold bone.

"You're a fool to ever have trusted such frivolous emotions," he says through Demyx's mouth.

"I'm so sorry, lover," Saïx says gently, but there is a note of a wistful whine in there, somewhere. "You were never meant to be here…"

"You are all fools. True strength is the absence of the heart," he taunts, pulling Demyx's face into a smirk so cruel and unfamiliar but strangely resonant at the same time. "I am the embodiment of nothing; the pinnacle of emptiness… it's only a matter of time, Saïx. I'll find one of them who will return to me."

"Kingdom Hearts will never be yours," Axel growls, standing in the door with the most feral gleam in his blazing green eyes.

_The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire_

_We don't need no water, let the motherfucker burn_

_Burn, motherfucker, burn_

The redhead takes a step forward, half-himself and half-not. "What are you trying to accomplish? Why do you want us?"

A derisive snort. "Need to know basis, Number Eight. You're not on the list."

Saïx pulls away from the possessed Demyx's grasp. The monster inside him gives a sharp, indignant sounding gasp. It's false, no doubt, but it feels real enough.

"We can no longer help you," the Berserker says softly, "Return to the darkness from whence you came, Xemnas. Remain nothing but a distant memory."

He hides his face in a fall of hair the silvery-blue of half-forgotten sorrow.

Xemnas decides it's time to use some physical persuasion, grunts in frustration when he realizes his current shell is bound firmly to the bed. "Fine. I'll find the strong heart I need… and with it, I'll finally command the one absolute power in all the worlds."

The maniacal edge. Saïx shudders visibly, but makes himself look up. His gaze is broken, that of a beaten dog, or lonely wolf, but just as direct. "Leave us in peace."

_Gone. The ghost cannot tolerate the moonlight's sliver blade._

Axel can't help but notice the desperate sadness on his lover's face, a borrowed emotion, no doubt. Demyx's head falls like this rejection was too much… and suddenly, Demyx is unbound.

"Axel!" the blond cries frantically, reaching out blindly as he drops back to the cool sheets, panting heavily.

The redhead is instantly by his lover's side, calming himself as he waited for the opening. Just as Saïx had fished him out of his own agony, so he did with Demyx, holding the weakened blond close to his chest like a child.

"I knew… you'd come for me," Demyx breathed.

"I had quite a bit of help," Axel informed quietly, "You should be thanking our dear…"

Axel trailed off awkwardly, and Demyx, now interested in exactly what was wrong, peered over his lover's gaunt shoulder.

Saïx was on his knees, hands clutching desperately at the front of Naminé's white dress. The young blond, in return, was cradling the older man's head against her body, running her fingers soothingly through the thick, stiff peaks of short hair on top of his head like a mother would. Silent sobs racked him, and they looked almost painful, so unused to the action he was.

"Saïx…" Demyx moaned softly. His voice was strangely low, sympathetic in the highest degree. He swiveled his head and peered up at Axel with those endearing blue eyes. "I can walk…"

Axel's gut wrenched agonizingly. "No… I'll carry you."

Without waiting for any sort of answer, he lifted his lover, traversed the soft white carpet and eased Demyx down to the floor. The blond wasted no time wrapping his arms around his good friend, holding him gently.

"I'm so sorry," Demyx whispered, his bloodstained face hidden in equally bloodstained hair. He looked so tragic and macabre: the beaten woman and the ghost of a stillborn child.

But Saïx won't speak, can't speak. He can't even speak until a month wastes away.

--- ---

In this place so unused to silence, a heaviness falls around even the strongest of them, robbing them of the merry voices that would otherwise have echoed off of white plaster. Saïx is silent as the grave, languishing on the couch whenever he decides to show up, and lately it's been a regular thing. Axel doesn't turn him away.

Demyx is silent too, his head aching constantly, his mind still shattered. He likes it quiet while he tries to put the pieces of himself back into their proper order. Naminé and Roxas visit, but they mostly keep to themselves, curled up together in the big armchair by the big, plate glass living room window. Just there for the sake of being there.

Axel smokes like a chimney, drinks—though much more reservedly than in previous years—and he paints. He finishes off three packs of cloves on his own in less than a week and he shakes and he's dizzy and nauseous in intervals. Even with his tame consumption, he suffers from lack of substance.

Sometimes he hurts so badly that he crawls in bed with Demyx, risking the chance that he might not be recognized by the fairly deranged musician. On the occasions when he is accepted, he lets Demyx hold him until he falls asleep.

His heart beats like rain on a tin roof, and it's nothing short of calming.

Ever since that first time Demyx made him pause and listen, he's taken every opportunity. He hates how sleeping pills make him feel so sick in the morning, and he avoids them like the plague. He just needs something to sooth this burning in his skull, something to keep him warm when he's feeling so cold, and Demyx obliges him without asking anything in return… except maybe some help in rearranging his head a little.

It doesn't take as much effort as Axel would have expected; some of these memories have unconscious timestamps, offhand information buried in the thoughts that were occurring beneath them. Demyx never complained about any sort of privacy either: he just pleaded for Axel to push the fragments into their proper places, hold them down until the glue set. By the time Demyx had found himself they were on a completely new level of intimacy.

This was also close to the time when Saïx said his first words since the whole mess.

Axel had sauntered into the living room to get Demyx some clean clothes, and there, sprawled out magnificently on the couch like a lion laid the older man, his bright golden eyes staring off into the distance. He looked both tired and vaguely upset.

"Hey Saïx," Axel said softly, "You okay?"

The blue haired man shifted lightly, bright burned gold meeting worn-glass green. He smiled, seeing past that dulled façade that hid the demon in Axel's true nature.

"I'm still alive," he said softly, voice strangely low and unfamiliar, "I'll be fine."

Axel wobbled on weak knees.

"He spoke…you _spoke_…" the redhead breathed.

"It was only temporary," Saïx informed.

That was all it took to fell the reincarnation of the mighty Number VIII, the Flurry of Dancing Flames. Saïx laughed when Demyx's voice called out from the other room.

"Axel! You'd better be getting me some boxers or I'm coming out there naked!"

So Saïx waited patiently. Demyx didn't just make threats and not live up to them, no. Not by any means. Saïx knelt to pick Axel up off the cold wood flooring and the redhead gave a soft moan that no doubt said 'my head fucking hurts.'

Demyx growled loudly from the other room.

"Pants, Axel! Pants!" he roared, "Not that hard to find, 'em!"

Saïx grinned in anticipation. He placed Axel gently on the couch and stalked around to the doorway to the bedroom and pressed himself tight to the wall.

"I'm getting my own damn pants," Demyx grumbled, "I don't care about the windows being open, damn it!"

The blond appeared completely naked, still slightly wet, hair dripping from his recent shower. He shook like a dog as soon as he was out of the bedroom and picked up his characteristic stride. The way he moved made him seem even lankier than he really was to tell the truth. He looked a little gaunter recently, though. No doubt it had to do with the substances he'd consumed earlier and his lack of movement over the past month.

Saïx waited until the blond was only a few feet from his hiding place, pounced like a cat.

"Boo."

"_Yeargh! SAIX!!"_

_--- ---_

_I guess at this point, life returned to normal._

_Well… short a little weirdness on the emotional level. The confrontation with Xemnas clarified one thing for us: we hadn't escaped our pasts. I have a feeling that it might have been Xemnas himself pulling our strings, but at the same time, I think it was just the way it had to be. He merely set the ball in motion._

Pour forth, we beseech Thee, Lord, Thy grace into our hearts; that, as we have known the Incarnation of Christ, Thy Son, by the message of an angel, so by His Passion and Cross we may be brought to the glory of the Resurrection. Through the same Christ our Lord.


	32. Warmer Climate

_The author would now like to ask you to do something. Chapters 1-9 have been back-beta'd, and there's more there to pick up... I'd like you guys to read them if possible, because that would be great, it would._

_Another thing, I lost a watcher or two this last week, and it makes me think I did something wrong... I'm I getting too cliché on you guys? I mean, I can't recall exactly who abandoned because the list is growing up past thirty now... (for which I am extremely grateful) but whoever it was didn't tell me exactly what it was they didn't like. Well... I'm putting up my offer one more time: If you don't like something, just tell me. I'll probably go back and revise a chapter or two back if it's that unpopular. One thing I do refuse to change, though, is the fact that someone _will _die. It's the nature of a tragedy, and even if it does make me (and everyone else along with me) sad, I think I've decided._

_But you know, it might not end all sad._

_So with that said (the most I've said in a long time, I know) enjoy to the fullest... and please, please, please send your reviews! I may not respond every time, but really... I can't tell you how much it makes my day to get a little note on my silly little writings. Thank you all so much for sticking around as long as you have._

_As you all know, this chapter was brought to you in part by the wonderful Mousewolf. Thanks and reverence should be directed to her. And without further a due..._

* * *

::: Warmer Climate ::: 

"It's September," Demyx said softly, leaning over his lover; bright blue blazed down into equally luminous green.

"I know, Dem," Axel yawned, "Go back to bed, love."

Demyx ignored his lover's orders, pressed his lips down on Axel's temple, moving downward slowly pressing loving kisses on pale skin until he was at the corner of the older man's lips. He looked so fucking delicious bathed in the early morning's vaguely blue light.

"It's September…"

"I know."

"Then get up and fuck me, you idiot."

--- ---

Axel's nails bite into Demyx's smooth golden skin but he doesn't mind so much. When they're being gentle it rarely ever even leaves marks.

Demyx moans, deep and throaty, tipping his head down until spun-gold locks fall down onto Axel's neck and chest, tickling insidiously. Axel smiles and pulls his lover down against him, lips brushing the blond's. Demyx obediently opens his mouth and allows Axel to invade him as he picks up the pace. Demyx starts crying. He always cries when Axel fucks him this way, and though any one else would be turned off by this, it only makes Axel want to go harder, faster, stronger.

So Demyx cries and Axel continues to get even more unbearably hot.

_The virgin turned nymphomaniac. He's such a beautiful thing when he's crying._

--- ---

Demyx was cooking eggs, not really minding that he hurt some. He was delicate no matter how he looked at it, and as much as that irked him, he tried not to let it get the better of him. He ignored it and wrote private odes to his sleeping lover, sang them quietly to himself until Saïx knocked at the door.

Even if it was kind of cramped in the apartment, Demyx toyed with the idea of inviting Saïx to live with them permanently. Not only was he a welcomed and very efficient lover, he was kind and generous and more often than not, he picked up the chores that Axel tended to neglect. Demyx let the older man in and greeted him with a friendly kiss on the cheek, a tight hug. It was reciprocated fully, matched with a rough but nonetheless loving kiss on the forehead.

_Damn, but he's possessive._

"Come into the kitchen and we'll get you fed," Demyx laughed, whirling and trotting back down the hall in through the arch to the kitchen.

"Demyx…"

"Yeah," the blond called back, puzzled by the note of confusion on the older man's voice.

"What are you wearing?"

"A skirt. And a well coordinated tank top to match," Demyx replied coolly. He was completely at ease with the fact that he was cross-dressing and really didn't give a shit what anyone else thought.

Saïx was instantly behind the younger man, taking a handful of the soft, generously gathered fabric, a look of utter puzzlement still etched on his face.

"What," Demyx laughed, "Does it look bad?"

"You look good in brown," Saïx replied evenly, letting the deep earth-colored fabric to fall back into its heavy folds, fluttering down around ankle-length. It was almost disgusting how flattering his little white spaghetti-top tank looked on him. These were most assuredly a woman's clothes.

"Thanks, love. That's so sweet," he laughed, sweeping his over-long hair back from his forehead. "Will you go shake Axel out of bed? I'm almost done with breakfast."

"Is that macaroni and cheese?" Saïx mumbled skeptically.

"Is that a problem?"

"Just as long as nothing else goes in that pot."

"Deal," Demyx laughed. "But I'm putting bacon in mine whether you like it or not."

"Sure," Saïx sighed, trotting out of the kitchen.

Being who he always had been, anyone would have expected him to make minimal effort at wake the redhead, but Saïx was, in fact, much more like a big dog than anything else. He could have his playful moments. No doubt he was having one now.

With little ceremony, the blue-haired man kicked his shoes off at the bedroom door and launched himself onto the bed, bouncing both Axel and himself roughly. Axel bawled in his anger and bleariness, rolled over and tried to kick Saïx off the bed. All the while, the older man laughed and laughed, allowing himself to be rolled off the bed onto the floor.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Axel grumbled, "It's fucking 10:20. Let a man sleep, will ya?"

"No can do," Saïx laughed, "Demyx wants you in the kitchen."

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by Axel's softly wheezing breaths and the quiet, rhythmic drumming of Saïx's fingers on the wood floor.

"You better not have gone back to sleep."

"Saïx…"

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

The older man turned, golden eyes glimmering in bemusement. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Axel shifted as though uncomfortable, clutching his pillow to his body, half-curled in the fetal position. Only half of his face could be seen beyond the mattress, framed in flaming red hair.

"Since… Since that night I've been kind of worried about you. I've never seen you so, well, vulnerable, I guess."

Saïx was completely silent, flicking imaginary dust off of his black jeans. He finally sighed and shifted so that he was half on the bed, his bent knees pressed to the carpet by the bed. His face was only inches from Axel's, uncomfortably close for anyone else… but lately Axel had a strange desire to be close to the older man… too close, maybe.

"I'm still not sure what I think about all of this," he said softly, slowly. He seemed to be taking great pains in choosing and ordering his words.

"Do you think he's the reason we have to suffer?"

"No, but…" Saïx shook his head, "Karma's a bitch, Axel. We just have to pay for what we've done."

"But Demyx did nothing!" Axel moaned, "Why does he have to go through so much shit? Rights are we should get all this shit…"

"Not true…" the blue haired man corrected, "He _did_ do terrible things… and we're getting our due—and much worse—punishment because of our 'gifts'."

Axel gave a disgruntled rumble.

A strong porcelain hand snaked up to Axel's cheek, lighted warm and completely uncallused, a soft thumb stroking the little bruise-colored tattoo beneath a brilliant green-apple eye.

"Saïx…" The older man shook his head, silencing Axel with naught but a glance.

_There are angels in your angles_

"Do you remember when we were lovers… before Demyx, before Roxas, before Xemnas even valued me more than a stone in his boot?"

"Yeah," Axel whispered. "I guess our stars didn't line up, huh?"

Axel felt a sort of vague sadness. He'd really been tossed around a lot back then – not that he'd much minded up until Roxas, but still…

_There's a low moon caught in your tangles_

"Sometimes I wonder… what went wrong there?"

"I don't know, but… You know, you should just forget about it. Remember… I'm counting on ya here." He cracked a too-familiar grin.

Saïx heaved a depressed sigh. "So that's why you egg him on like that? It's not right, Axel… it'll get both of us hurt in the end."

"He needs someone to hold him when I'm gone."

"Why do you have to die?" Saïx barked suddenly, his hand hard and frighteningly unyielding. He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then finally took a sighing breath and withdrew his hand. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Saïx… I'm…"

"What on god's green earth are you two doing?" Demyx grumbled, completely oblivious to the conversation that had been going on before.

Saïx looked up, luna-yellow eyes catching the morning glow like ghost fire.

"Sorry. We're coming," Saïx mumbled, standing up gracefully.

"Right. We'll be out in a sec," Axel confirmed, sitting up to watch the older man go.

_Karma's a bitch, huh, Saïx? Tell me something I didn't know._

--- ---

Saïx never liked getting fucked up, but Demyx could be so endearing. And so now here he was, sandwiched between Axel and said blond on their bed, high as a kite. With Demyx mastering his mouth unabashedly and Axel's hands exploring places they had only found in distant annals of history he felt like a god being so lovingly adored but it still felt vaguely wrong. Still, he didn't mind with his hands occupied on Demyx's sculpted hips, slid up the skirt the blond had decided to wear. The older man's body tingled with the warmth Axel was creating in the pit of his stomach, his groin.

"Love me…" He breathed, breaking away from Demyx's firm lips, seeking tongue… tombstone teeth in their perfect rows. He tasted vaguely like fertile earth.

_Death needs no explanation._

He could feel Demyx's sadness, those latent feelings of guilt springing out all of a sudden, flowing through to mix with Axel's apprehension and Saïx shrank back from them.

_Death is as death does. You cannot control her._

"Saïx, hey…" Demyx whispered gently, his face nothing but frown and little rings of blue around the deep black wells of his eyes. "Love, are you alright?"

_The shattered mirror and its warped reflections: it may say it loves you, but there's no truth in it._

_Death will make no exceptions._

The fiery red of Axel's head blurred into view, and a slight weight finds itself a place on his chest. Saïx could hear the undertones of the redhead's thoughts: _I am so sorry_. He couldn't help but think that Axel would try harder if he were so sorry about all of this; he was just taking the easy way out of this, and it wasn't fair for anyone else. He was running.

"I never knew you to run from a fight, Axel," the older man said suddenly, pulling Demyx roughly down against him. The blond complied without a word and curled up next to his good friend. He was hot like an overheated radiator, but Saïx didn't think he could handle being alone any more.

"Shut up, Saïx. I don't run from shit."

_Ah, how very Axel of him._ Saïx was too tired to argue. And though he could tell the blond was up, Demyx said nothing at all, just hid his face in Saïx's hair, warm face pressed tight to the smooth white skin of the older man's shoulder. It took a while to realize, but it was the soft shuddering against his shoulder that alerted Saïx to the fact that the blond was crying. Whether Axel had told him or not, he already knew.

"Don't cry," Axel sighed.

"Love…" Demyx sobbed bitterly, "Love is watching someone die."

The room fell into uncomfortable silence.

_So who's gonna watch you die?_

--- ---

"Why can't we have a happy ending?" Demyx whispers, his breath nothing but green.

Axel rolls over on his back, bright eyes following the slow revolutions of the ceiling fan, a clove dangling limp from his knuckles over the side of the bed.

They're both so stoned. The apartment is hazy, and the dogs are enjoying the second hand. The tired smoke, pale incense, it's just so heady.

Axel would say something deeply philosophical, but he can't find it because the thought keeps swimming out of his grasp and he just settles for the next best thing. "I don't know."

Demyx sighs sadly. "Oh. Okay."

Axel, unnerved by the silence, finally speaks up.

"Hey Dem, 'bout your hair…"

"What?"

"Is it a mullet or a mohawk?"

Demyx laughed. "It's called a 'tail hawk', Axel. _You'd _do best to memorize that!"

"Oh, you suck."

--- ---

Demyx is smoking a cigarette on the porch while his hair bleaches out. He's tired as all holy fuck, but still he insists that they finish up with his hair. He got his 'tail hawk' trimmed back to a manageable length and now, for the first time in his life, he's dying his wild mane, a lovely shade of…

"Are you seriously going through with this?" Axel groans, slipping out onto the balcony with the younger man.

Demyx only grins like a fool. "Hell yes."

"Does it look any lighter yet, Axel?" Saïx calls from the kitchen. His long hair is caught up in a shower cap, looking close to platinum blond at this point. Demyx tilts his head down for the redhead to see and he inspects liberally.

"Yeah, it might be done."

"Come here Dem!"

"Almost done!" Demyx calls back, taking a prodigious drag and foisting the other half of the cigarette on Axel, who really can't say he minds all that much. So Axel relaxes while the other two fiddle with dying each other's hair, something that just seems frivolous to him. He's never had to.

"I didn't know you had brown hair," Axel hears through the cracked door, Demyx speaking.

"It's almost blond," Saïx responds, "It's hard to keep it long like this and dye it so much. I only bleach the whole thing when I really need to."

"Yeah… so does it look good?"

"Go wash it out."

"Sure."

"You never answered Axel's question, you know…"

Demyx laughs hard.

"I've always wanted purple hair," he proclaims loudly enough that he knows Axel can hear him on the porch, "What better time than now? Besides, it'll be really dark. Almost black."

Saïx gives a little derisive snort, "It should be amusing to see you with dark hair. You really don't look like a dark haired person."

"It's going to be black on the sides anyway."

"Get ye gone! You're going to fry that hair of yours. I don't want to see you bald," Saïx grumbles, though Axel would rather classify it as a pout, "You should never have done this to your hair. It's so beautiful."

Demyx just laughs and trots off to the shower without anything else to say.

Saïx, without anything further to do in the kitchen, finally migrates out to sit with Axel on the porch, slumping down into one of the battered old wicker chairs and pulling out a slightly bent menthol. He lights up with striking efficiency lets the breath sigh through his teeth.

"I didn't know you smoked," Axel mumbles, grinding the wasted butt out on the bottom of his shoe. He tosses it back over his shoulder, letting it fall to whatever doom it met three stories below.

"I don't usually," Saïx admits, "It's only an occasional thing because I like it so much."

"That could be bad," Axel laughs.

"Addiction has to start somewhere…" he trails off and they enjoy the relative silence for a while. As long as he's been living in this place, Axel has gotten used to the sound of the highway only a few odd meters off from his porch. Demyx had adjusted to the switch with amazing ease, having lived in a more or less quieter area of midtown before, and Saïx was unusually quick to adapt as well.

"Axel, I've been thinking…"

"Yeah?"

Saïx sighs, "Well, don't you think this is all pretty fucked up?"

"We've been through that enough to kill the subject. Graphically. I'm not really excited about all this, you know? I never asked to be the sacrificial lamb twice in two lives." Axel lights up another of Demyx's reds and inhales deep. Ah, sweet death-bringing, biting, stinging tar; carbon monoxide; tobacco; fiberglass.

_Once by water, twice by fire. Thrice in the rain, and last as a liar. _

"You never asked, but you never tried to avoid it either." Well, he does have a point there.

"What can I do, oh wise and mighty sage?" Axel grumbles sarcastically.

There was a sudden sly little smile curving on blond Saïx's thin, mobile lips. "Break the mirror."

Axel looks a little stunned at that suggestion, then his lips form the words almost instinctively. "It's September…"

Really it's almost October, but Axel could care less. It has meaning.

Though the statement has no meaning to Saïx, it really doesn't matter so much because he manages to pick up on the tension in Axel's voice. The redhead rises and directs his path immediately to where Demyx is showering in peace, probably with his incense burning to cover up the bleach smell.

_Love me, love. One more time, for old time's sake._


	33. October

I have the distinct feeling that you guys will hate me for this one... you knew it was coming, goddamn it. There's a reference to Sylvia Plath's poem "Daddy" in here. Can't miss it. There's a lot of stuff I neglected to point out earlier, though... so I might go back and do that later.

As usual, this has been beta'd by the wonderful Mousewolf. Go give props, damnit! She puts up with my shit so you guys can have bittersweet goodness to read! XD

Well, here's to the men we've all come to love so much. They're silly bastards and they both got them some major flaws.

Here goes again... (please, please read and review? And enjoy this one as much as you can... I know it's hard...)

* * *

:: October ::

Demyx's purple hair looks good on him… strange in a way, but still good. For some reason, he reminds Axel of grape flavored Jolly-Ranchers. And like a hard candy, he has his mouth all over the kid all of the time, finding ways to explore the gentle curves, hard angles with his tongue, gathered lips.

Demyx is completely willing too, but more and more often his blue eyes are downcast.

_The printing press is so depressed._

Demyx feels like shit and Axel can't find the words.

"I love you," he whispers desperately, blue eyes filled with a strange brand of fear. His voice is pleading now, "I love you, I love you, I love you!"

Axel knows there's a whole lot he wants to say, but he can't speak.

"Love me, Axel…" he begs, nothing but a heap of raw nerves and abject misery, "Don't leave me here all alone…"

Axel gathers the former blond into his arms and quiets him with a kiss. He tucks his lover's head under his chin, smothers himself with that vibrant grape hair.

"I love you, Dem…"

_But I don't know if I can win this one…_

--- ---

It's not blatant touches that turn Demyx on. It's not the hungry kisses, the suggestive touches, the occasional rough ass-grab; it's the soft brushes, the friendly lips on his cheek, the hand ruffling his hair, the gentle hugs. He seeks attention from his lover more and more these days, becoming more and more pensive.

Meltdown is imminent.

--- ---

"Shit happens," Axel said with a shrug. His eyes were like black holes, swallowing the light greedily just like they swallowed that pretty apple-green, leaving cold emeralds. Demyx bristled.

"You're a complete douche!" he screamed, "How could you fucking say that? You completely ignored me, you ran off with Luxord and now you're fucking stoned on the couch telling me 'shit happens' when the car's sitting in some impound lot somewhere minus the fucking whole front end? Do you know what kind of shit you'd be in if I hadn't gotten Saïx to help me pick your punk-ass up?"

Axel remained stubbornly silent. Contrary as ever, picking one of many scabs on his forearm. He's laced with minor cuts and bruises, but otherwise he's fine.

"Mother of fucking god!" Demyx seethed, stomping across the room in his rage. He slipped into the bedroom, through to the bathroom and climbed into the tub. He cried. He didn't want to lose on this one. He clutched at his shattered heart and cried for his sanity. He was slowly but surely dying inside, decaying from the core out like an apple with a worm in it…

And Axel was the worm.

He spent fifteen minutes wondering if Axel would appear in the doorway to comfort him, maybe even apologize, and as pathetic as it was, he knew everything could get better if that happened. He was starting to feel like a beaten wife: angry as all living hell with his abusive lover, but too scared to leave. He couldn't imagine life without Axel.

Well, Axel appeared in that doorway… but the knight's armor was lookin' pretty rusty.

"Move. I need a shower."

It was the final fracture, the tiny seam that shattered the spine of what was left of Demyx's composure. He rose jerkily, strode swiftly toward his lover and landed a perfect roundhouse on Axel's chin. The redhead fell away, landing in a painfully awkward position on the hard floor. He looked up with a mixture of pure rage and shock on his face, kneading a busted lip. Blood dribbled down onto his shirt and only then did he hiss in pain. He was lucky his lip ring hadn't broken his teeth.

"What the fuck!?" he snarled.

"Fuck you, Axel! I can't fucking take this any more!" Demyx screamed, the tears flowing liberally, hands hooked into his hair, pulling hard. "I can't take it. I-I'm going away… forever."

He paused, voice falling to the lowest note; breathing, heart,

(my fucking heart Christ it hurts don't let me ever have one again)

mind finally slowing. Now all he was left with was an overwhelming sense of sorrow.

"Fine. Be my guest," Axel hissed malevolently, "Get your shit and leave."

Demyx stopped breathing completely. He could have sworn his heart skipped a few beats.

"What?"

"You heard me," Axel spoke more boldly, unfolding himself from the floor, eyes bright with madness, "You're not welcome here! Get out!"

And Demyx did.

--- ---

A call is made to the police. Demyx explains the wreck. Not much chance of the redhead getting in too much trouble, what with all his connections, but the boy doesn't care. Demyx will have his revenge in whatever flavor it will come.

All he really gets in the end is a whole lot of pain.

It was all just a waste of time.

--- ---

"Demyx, you have to eat something… anything…" Saïx urged, stroking the distraught boy's forehead.

"It's October… and I'm twenty now…" he replied disjointedly. He stared at the wall, unwilling to move. For god's sake, he was barely breathing on his own at this point.

_No will to live._

_And no ill will to speak of._

"Demyx…"

"It's October, Saïx," he says again, "I always wanted to die in November. Do you think I can hold out until then?"

Saïx tries to suppress a mournful sob, fails miserably.

"Demyx… stop talking like that!"

"He bit my pretty red heart in two…" Demyx said vacantly, then made a small, empty noise that might have once been a laugh. "Daddy, Axel, I hate you… but… I…"

Demyx writhed in agony. If he hadn't exhausted himself two days ago, he would have been crying. Saïx held the boy gently, stroking that soft, grape-candy hair and silently, he cried the tears Demyx couldn't. If there wasn't some sort of intervention soon, Demyx would most assuredly die. He was so close at this point that it was a frightening reality. But still, in some corner of his mind, Saïx never wanted to see Demyx in a thorazine induced stupor, not knowing who or where he was.

"Tell him…" Demyx gasped, suddenly reaching up to catch Saïx's tear-streaked face in his hands, "Tell him I loved him until the end, Saïx. Tell him he was always my love. Tell him he was my heart. Axel was my heart."

"Tell him yourself… just live a little longer," Saïx pleaded—for the first time in this life or the last, _pleaded_—the boy desperately, "Just a week?"

Demyx shuddered, finally nodded his consent.

"But, Dem - you have to eat something. Drink some water. You'll die too soon if you don't."

"Oh Saïx," Demyx sighed, a strange smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, "Can't you see? My heart is dead… I might as well follow."

_No will to live._

_No point; no purpose._

_Funny how we talk in cliché when we're so blindly in love._

--- ---

Axel was a bleeder.

Demyx was a flat-liner.

In that, they were alike somehow.


	34. Lithium

_Ah! I'm so sorry I haven't updated, guys. Been so busy here that time slips through my fingers like a greased monkey... and unfortunately, a lack of creative loving from the people around me and several shots of rum, approximately three cases of beer, and two packs of flavored cloves - one cherry, one vanillia - as well as verious underfed, rabid plot bunnies have forced this into a temporary hiatus. I've had this chapter written, beta'd (by my wonderful and amazing beta Mousewolf. Yes that was a shameless plug, once again. I should post some side-by-side comparisons to show you how much she really does... maybe in my LJ? Anyway, back to the topic...) and ready, just waiting in my files like a loaf of lead. I just kind of forgot about it. I have portions of 35 and 36 started, but I'm scrapping them in favor of making Dem completely helpless still... I want to play with Axel's dreams a bit... show you all what he can really do. He's got more strength than he allots to himself._

_Also, this is a bit of a happy chapter. There's some humor in it, if you can find it buried in there... I've been a bit angsty lately. Also, since I'm sick of a structured plot at this point in time, there will be at least one Oneshot and a PWP that gets spawned out of this. The PWP and Winter Marigolds (planned four to five chapters) are gifts to Mousewolf, of course, and the oneshot is for all of those people who can see Larxene in a very compromising situation... the kitty goes out to hunt sparrows and finds herself landing on something with well concealed talons._

_There will be some Turps spinoffs soon. Also, if you guys want to write one or two, maybe do some fanart, I'll link you on my front page. I think the Turpsverse needs some variety... and so, here I go. Next update should be written and whatnot by the time I get home on Tuesday. Not looking forward to a thirteen hour bus ride, but I am NOT letting some people I don't know pack it in the bottom of a plane. It's my baby. I don't care if they would replace it. I love no other guitar like I love my Konstantine. He's beautiful..._

_Not that you guys needed to hear that... (sweatdrop) Anyway, I'm cutting out now. Read, Enjoy, Review, Repeat! (lessthanthree)_

_PS: Welcome all you newcomers! I hope you're enjoying the story thus far... to all of you who faved, reviewed, and watch, thank you all. Even as this is coming fast to a close, I still want to write for you all. You've put up with my shit so patiently... I should make the boys start going out to give hugs! (teehee) _

* * *

:: Lithium :: 

Axel sat on the couch, curled up with a blanket covering him to the chin. He stared blankly at _the_ painting, haunting him with those terrible, familiar blue eyes. He wanted desperately to throw it on a fire, to slash the canvas to a million tiny pieces, to break the frame and send it to an uncertain fate in a landfill.

Anything but having it there to haunt him.

Under the blanket, clutched tight in bony fingers, the only thing Demyx had left behind that didn't quite belong to him, but radiated his presence: the guitar. Though uncomfortable, Axel clutched it in his hands.

"Sorry, Reno," he whispered, to the ghosts of maybe-never-was and maybe-could-have-been. "Sorry Dem. I fucked it up for both of you, didn't I?"

The sound of keys in the door lock. Axel jumped, gazing back over his shoulder excitedly. The door swung open, but a wave of disappointment hit him; just Naminé, though she looked mighty angry. She left the door half open, Roxas hovering nervously in her wake. She stomped right up to Axel and he didn't flinch, didn't make any attempt to stop her or defend himself when she wound back and slapped him hard across the cheek.

She hit him again and again until Roxas caught her in his surprisingly strong grip, soothed her with kisses and gentle words. She was reduced to quiet tears and a singularly unpleasant angry glare.

"I'm sorry," he finally breathed, the words dropping heavy from his lips like lead.

Naminé bristled hard, pulling at Roxas' hold again, wanting desperately to hurt him. _I wish I had my drawing things, give me back my powers so help me, _said her eyes, aquamarine-blue and hard as stone.

"Tell that to Demyx, you asshole!" she cried, "He's dying, Axel! He thinks it's all his fault!"

Axel turned, squeezed his eyes shut against the emotions that threatened to escape him, clinched his jaw until there was bright agony singing through the taut muscles.

"I had to make him drink some water today… he could barely swallow on his own because he won't eat anything… he won't drink anything. He's wasting away and the only thing keeping him alive is the hope _you_ will forgive _him_!" she cried, still trying to escape Roxas' iron-hard grip. The ex-Key's eyes were shut, his blond head slightly bowed.

Axel felt it bubbling up in him, shunted it off as best he could manage, but it was all just too much to take. Demyx had definitely rubbed off on him. He tried to minimize the pain that his sobs caused as they constricted his already tight frame, tried to just let them happen, but there was so much regret, anger, sorrow pent up within him. He clutched the guitar desperately, wishing it could reciprocate his pain.

It was mute and uncaring of his agony. It was never his.

Roxas' warm hand found a perch on Axel's shoulder, a small reassurance, but he was alone nonetheless. There was nothing that could change that.

"You have to go to him, Axel," Roxas urged, "You have to help him…"

"I can't…" Axel breathed, "He hates me…"

"No," Naminé hissed bitterly, "Against all better judgment and logic, he still loves you. You're the only one who can fix him… for now."

"Roxas…" Axel said as evenly as he could manage, "There's a legal pad on the computer desk… I know it's not the most… I don't know… well, I'm writing him a letter…"

The boy nodded and went to get the requested items.

--- ---

Demyx opened his eyes only to find a pair of sapphire eyes bluer than his own staring at him intently. He blinked a few times and made an effort to clear his pain-racked mind.

"Oh. Hey, kiddo," he laughed weakly.

"Hey, Dem. You feeling alright?" Roxas replied in a soft, friendly manner.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me," Demyx assured, lying through his teeth. He did it even though a person would have to be blind to believe him. Maybe numb and deaf as well. "What brings you to my little corner of the world, kid?"

The other rolled his eyes, then ducked his head slightly. "I've got a letter for you… I was supposed to read it to you personally."

"Oh, well go ahead. I promise I won't fall asleep again," Demyx laughed, making a valiant effort to sit up. Roxas rushed to prop him up against the pillows despite the claims that he needed no help.

"There," he murmured, "You comfortable?"

"Yeah," Demyx replied softly, "Thanks…"

"Now, let's see here…" Roxas began just as quietly, unfolding the sheet of yellow paper withdrawn from his back pocket. He slumped down against the side of the bed and began to read.

"_Demyx,_

"_I've never been much of a writer. I'm bad at introductions and I always get lost trying to write conclusions. I can never decide whether to address people with 'Dear so-and-so' or just use their name or what. I avoid writing letters like the plague, and I bet you can see why already._

"_Let's just cut to the chase. I tried not to hurt you, Demyx. I tried not to hurt you and I failed miserably. I complicated you in the cruelest and most unfair ways and it hurts me to know that I made your life so miserable. I keep walking in and out of the studio because I want to paint, but your face is everywhere. You haunt me. I can't get you out of my head or my heart, and I wish I hadn't been such a fucking asshole to you._

"_You remember the time when we named the guitar… when we first made love… when I promised I would make myself yours for the rest of my life?_

"_Those nights haunt me. The words are like poison without you here. I need you, Demyx. You're my antidote and I'm dying to have you back here in my arms. If you never want to see me again, I can understand that. I'll just try to move on with my life, though it wouldn't ever be complete without you._

"_You are the better half of me, Demyx. I hope one day you can come to forgive me for being so cruel so many times before this even._

"_I love you more than you'll ever know._

"_Axel._"

Roxas turned to look over his shoulder, was surprised to find Demyx smiling softly, tears rolling down his pale cheeks generously.

"He always was an asshole… but you'd know that just as well as me, wouldn't you?"

The blond kid smiled.

"Yeah," he agreed, "He's a grade-A moron."

"What should I do, Roxas? He wants to be forgiven but he… he didn't really…"

"Forgive him and move on. I know Nami's being kind of stubborn, but I don't think you two were ever meant for anyone else."

Demyx smiled, gazed out the window vacantly.

"You know, I could really go for some mac-n-cheese right now." Demyx said after a minute, a little grin parting his lips.

"Can we say obsession?" Roxas laughed, "Alright. I'll be back."

"You used to be just as bad!" He smirked, then shouted after the boy's retreating back, "And don't forget the bacon!"

He smiled. He wasn't letting the redhead off the hook, that was for sure, but he was looking forward to building a stronger bridge on top of the ashes of the old one.

--- ---

The reunion was sweet, to say the least.

Since they couldn't move Demyx quite yet, Axel spent the long nights at Saïx's apartment to just be with his lover. They mostly just talked and when they weren't talking, they were entwined like serpents on the bed, sleeping soundly in the warm light streaming through the windows.

Roxas and Naminé dropped by often, mostly to bring Saïx some food and maybe a few books in payment for being such a saint for this whole time. He didn't ever readily accept anything, but the two knew he was grateful in the highest degree. There were even a few occasions when Roxas fell asleep on the couch and Saïx told Naminé that she needn't worry, he had plenty to repay them. They'd spent the night a few times that way, but really, Saïx could care less. He was just happy to play host for as long as everyone was around.

Ironically, he had the worst sort of apartment for this sort of thing, so Naminé, in her infinite wisdom, began an instant cleaning streak, advising Saïx on how to keep his archives of the New York Times from migrating out of his bedroom.

This was quite a chore, as it were.

Most of the time Naminé spent was lavished on persuading Saïx to throw away issues from four years ago. She had some success until she got to the previous year's issues, which he claimed he wouldn't part with even if she tried to castrate him or maybe strangle him with his own entrails.

Naminé had realized she'd lost the war at that point, but didn't give up until Demyx had made his recovery a week or so later. Demyx literally had to drag the peppy blond out of the apartment.

So there in the third week of October, Demyx and Axel found each other again. Something was lost, but in the same right something was gained all the same.

_After it's been broken, it never goes together quite the same as before. You always see the cracks ever after. But sometimes, it's the flaws that make it all the more beautiful._


	35. Breaks Easily

_Yes. Yet another installment of Turpentine arrives. I'm sorry I take so long lately, and most of all, I'm sorry it isn't longer. Check my front page for my LJ if you have one because you might get sneak peeks from that... It's friends only, but it's the place where I'll do little contests and whatnot... maybe even take requests._

_I'm home from Atlanta, though, so that means I'll be able to get back into the swing of things. Expect new shit from me too! I'll be posting the final chapter of Etude coming soon, and posting a few new fics I've devoted my life to... I'm also writing an original novel that started out as an idea for a fic, so my work may suffer a little from that, but I'm not going to abandon y'all. I promise._

_So here it is. Thank Mousewolf for her brilliance in fixing my stupid mistakes and keeping me from killing people prematurely and adding to this thing to make it interesting. I'd be lost without you, my wonderful beta!_

_Reviews rock my world. Thanks to all of you for devoting so much time to this thing! Turps just broke 10,000 hits last night, all thanks to you!_

* * *

:: Break Easily ::

Smooth light cascading down onto the balcony, golden and warm.

Demyx was curled like a cat on top of his favorite down comforter, happily cradled in the "bowl chair", only dozing lightly. Axel loved to watch this little ritual. On those odd days when the clouds peeled back like a scroll, there Demyx would be, basking in the warmth, his skin darkening slowly, turning that radiant, lush gold that Axel worshiped so. It always made his hand itch to paint.

"Hey, love," he called softly, pausing from cleaning his brushes, "It's getting towards three… you still want to go out?"

Demyx moaned softly in the back of his throat, stretched and sprawled out into the big plush dish. He ruffled his fading blue-purple hair and yawned.

"Yeah, okay… do I have time for a shower?"

"A quick one."

Demyx nodded and slipped to his feet, padded through the open sliding glass door and placed a kiss on his lover's cheek in passing. Axel actually melted for the first time in quite a while. Even though their relations were still kind of tight and cautious, there was a warmth between each nervous gesture that hadn't been there before.

Leto gave a long yawn from the bedroom, and the tinkle of his vaccination tags announced his arrival in the room. The artist put aside his tools, pristine and neat, and wiped his hands on a dirty old towel sat on the couch and lavished some love on his constant companion. He sighed, scratching the dobe's chin with his over-long fingernails, wondering why exactly he was getting such a strangely ominous feeling. Something was up, but he couldn't quite place it. Theatre curtains again, perhaps, but not as close. More like the vague paranoia that comes of being alone in an empty mansion for years at a time.

No company but paintings and the endless halls of reflections.

"Leto, I don't have any idea what's wrong with me, old man," he mumbled, tucking an ear down and massaging it against the dog's head. Leto made a sound somewhere between a whine and a growl, a crooning noise Axel could only describe as the dog version of purring. "You think I'm going really crazed again? Maybe I'm just freaked out about everything that's happened… do you think I should try to see?"

There was no reply from his companion, of course, but a sickening dread arose in his stomach, making him physically sick to think about it.

"I wonder…" he sighed, starting on the other ear. He did his work gently, then sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. He gathered the regained strength of his psyche into his chest, centered around the heart. His fire still could illuminate. He'd kept it after all.

(old heat light from the gods stolen flame laughing burning careless capricious forever)

"Show me, show me, show me…" he breathed.

_Burn, baby, burn!_

There was a pull, a sucking forward and he expertly rode it, casting out all his senses to pull in the information floating like ripe fruit, well within his grasp. Even if he hadn't willingly done this in quite a while, at least not consciously, it was like riding a bike. He could never forget how to do it. He tapped the depths of strength, rolled back the lid of the well and his vision opened up, a Grande Cinema for his future to play out within.

"_I'm not carrying any cash; I don't own a credit card. The only valuable thing you're going to get off of me is my earrings and they were only sixty bucks each. If you were looking for someone to rob, you really picked the wrong guy," he heard himself say._

_There was a man, his hat was tilted down low on his face, a bandana stretched across the lower half. He growled and pointed his gun at Demyx who stood like a stone wall, looking almost dangerous clutching Zipporah's leash. The borzoi was quiet like she usually was, but in this case because Demyx had a hand on her thin muzzle._

"_What about you, freak," the gunman barked, "Give me your cash. If your butt-buddy doesn't have it, you must."_

"_We were at the park," Demyx explained quietly, "We didn't need any. I have nothing worth anything to you on my body."_

"_What about the ring?" the gunman grated._

_Demyx flinched visibly, "You can't have that."_

"_Demyx," Axel whispered, lacing a hand into his lover's, "Don't be reckless… I know it's important but what has more value: a ring, or your life?"_

"_It's not just a ring," he said loudly, "it's a promise, and I won't let you take that from me. I'm sick of people taking and taking." He turned his gaze to Axel, softening tenfold, "I appreciate that you think of me first, but this is something I need to stand up for…"_

"_Demyx," Axel sighed, "Please… I can't lose you!"_

"_Hurry up and take off the fucking ring!" the man barked angrily, "I'm sick of your stalling."_

_Axel sighed. This was one thing he'd never wanted to do. He whistled through his teeth, high and loud, and instantly, the clatter of blunt claws on the pavement broke the night. The gunman turned, eyes wide with shock and horror as Leto launched himself into the air, a leap of black and tan and sharp, bared white in the dying light. _

_Axel had made it a point to release the other dog as soon as they had gotten onto the street and they felt like they were being watched. He'd done exactly what he was trained to do - waited patiently in a nearby alley._

_There was a shot just as the big dog was at the top of his jump, but it seemed like nothing had happened as the angry canine instantly tore into the would-be burglar's face. The man cried out in horror, falling back, his gun skittering out of his hand. Axel slammed his foot down on it, picked it up and leveled it on the fallen form._

"_Leto, away!" he ordered sternly._

_The dog backed off, collapsed panting against a wall. Zipporah pulled her leash out of Demyx's hand and bolted to her mate's side, nudging his muzzle with her own. Leto whimpered softly as Demyx knelt to inspect the damage. The bullet had gone right through his powerful neck, close to the shoulder._

"_Oh Leto," the blond whispered, placing a hand on the fallen dobe's head. He tried to get a hand on the wound but both dogs growled at him, Zipporah's mixed with an uneasy whine. Demyx bit back a sob._

"_Get out of here or I'll blow your head off," Axel grated, holding the gun expertly. He knew how to shoot and he knew well, even if he hadn't done it in years. You never forget these things._

"_My face!" the burglar cried, clutching the mangled lower half. He was lucky his lower jaw wasn't broken, and Axel knew the guy's cheeks were in shreds. He would need reconstructive surgery to fix that kind of damage, at the very least._

"_I said get out of town!" Axel barked, brandishing the weapon with frightening skill._

_The robber lurched to his feet, took off clumsily down the alleyway, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Axel instantly thrust the gun into his belt and pulled out his cell phone, dialed 911._

"_Axel!" Demyx called in distress, "Axel, come here now!"_

_The redhead trotted up beside his dog, smiling. "Good boy! You've done a great…" he stopped when he saw the blood, green eyes suddenly wide with surprise._

"_911, this is your operator speaking."_

"_God no…" Axel breathed, dropping the phone. Demyx scrambled to retrieve it._

"_Hello? Sir, are you still there?"_

"_Yes!" Demyx sighed in semi-relief. "We just had a robbery attempt… we're in an alley… I really can't remember where we are but it's somewhere near Georgia Tech."_

"_We have you pinpointed on GPS. Are there any injuries?"_

"_Yes…" Demyx said softly, "My… my lover's dog… the guy shot him in the fray. There's a lot of blood. We were able to get the gun, away so I don't think he'll be armed. The guy's hurt bad."_

"_Alright, I'm sending help. Please stay on the line until it arrives."_

"_Sure…" he muttered, leaning down next to Axel. The redhead was sobbing quietly, stroking his companion's head lovingly. Leto looked like he did when he was falling asleep, and Axel was whispering soft affirmations. It was something they couldn't stop._

Axel opened his eyes and shook his head violently to clear the image. He wasn't even going to chance that path. The shower was still going, and that meant he had time. He mentally pried the shallow oval leak from its socket and dashed it across the ground.

_Break the mirrors – they're only reflections, after all. The future is yours to make, boy._

He patted Leto on the head lovingly as he rose and padded into the bathroom, stripped and slid into the shower behind his surprised lover.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Demyx laughed, his bright eyes suddenly heavy and sultry.

"How about we just stay in today?" Axel suggested, pressing his lithe body against that firm, well-muscled back, nuzzled the candy grape hair plastered to his neck with wet.

"If that's what you want," the purple-haired musician laughed, ducking his head under the shower's miserly stream. He slipped out of Axel's grasp, finished up with what he was doing and then pulled the taller redhead against him, leaning into the cold shower wall. "I don't want to undo this shower…"

"Of course not," Axel laughed, "Our water bill is always pretty low…"

--- ---

November came ushered by falls of golden leaves and the preparations for the quick-coming holidays. Axel couldn't believe it had already been more than a year since he'd fallen in love with this beautiful creature.

In a sudden decision that had shocked both Axel and Saïx quite deeply, the kid had gone out and shorn his hair off entirely, leaving nothing to work with but the roots that had grown out during his time with unnaturally purple locks. Axel hadn't been upset, so to say, just a little shocked. He'd never seen the kid without some wild lengths to play with. It was a shock since his own hair had been mostly untouched for the past few months, losing its natural buoyancy and hanging easily down to the bottoms of his shoulder blades.

"Now I look kind of like I did when I was eighteen," Demyx explained, running a hand over the fuzzy shortness in back, "That was back before I let it grow out."

"You look clean," Saïx commented over his Zombie Survival Guide, bright amber eyes glimmering with amusement.

"So you're saying I looked dirty with long hair?" Demyx accused irritably.

"I never said you said that," he replied simply, the edge of a smirk pulling his thin lips.

Axel brayed with laughter.

"You suck, Saïx," Demyx grumbled, "You suck the cock."

"That would be Axel, actually," he replied just as matter-of-factly, despite the fact he was now almost grinning.

The room went completely silent… until, of course, Demyx started howling with laughter just as his lover had before him.

"Hey!" Axel pouted, "The fuck did I ever do to you?"

"Not recently," the blue haired one deadpanned, and then went back to his reading.

Trounced, Axel retreated to his paintings for the rest of the day while the other two caught up in the living room. It was nice. They were having some slow times, but Axel knew it was time to look forward again. He needed to make sure things were going in the direction he wanted.

--- ---

Axel woke up gasping and cold again.

It was the third time in four nights that he'd woken up from this same dream, and he couldn't quite figure out how to get this lovely round pane of reflections out of its cradle. For some reason, he kept dreaming about Demyx freezing to death. He wouldn't let that happen.

He lay back down and curled up against his lover, pulling the blond head close to his own. Short straw-colored bristles tickled his cheek and Demyx moaned softly, rousing from his slumber.

"Hey you…" he mumbled, the word slurring into a single sound.

"We're going away for the winter. I don't want to see one ounce of snow," Axel said softly, letting his jade eyes fall shut.

"Alright," Demyx agreed, "I'll call my mom… no… Braig. He won't mind if we fuck on his couch."

Axel chuckled softly. It was things like this that just made his day.

_The largest of the mirrors popped loose and exploded into skittering, shimmering bright shards, sharp and bright, beautiful and unpredictable._


	36. Sleep

Ha! Update.

I have a job now, so things will slow even more. Sorry guys. But I do like my job a whole lot. XD I'll tell ya later.

In other news, I have a forum now: http ://www. fanfiction. net/f/1231099/

We're RPing the Organization in there at the moment, so check it out (and remember to take out the spaces, ya? XD)

Read, enjoy, rate, repeat!!! It totally makes my day.

* * *

:: Sleep ::

Demyx had hobbies other than his music, but Axel rarely ever noticed because they were extremely subtle. He lied well too, very much unlike in his past life. For example, he could draw.

Axel had to admit he was talented, although he could brush up a little on human anatomy.

He had a hand for Japanese styled koi and Chinese dragons, stylized goldfish, even the lotus flowers that bloomed on pink tinted watercolor paper for Marluxia in a thank you card for the box of oranges the pink haired man had sent them. Axel found some sketches and with a patient hand, gold-leafed the flowers, added light paint to the koi's scales and eyes, gilded crystals clutched in adamantine claws with silver. Even so, Demyx refused to acknowledge his own talent.

Their styles were as opposite as their elements or night and day: Axel's lines broken like static on a TV screen, a wildfire of short choppy lines, but Demyx's was smooth, flowing in long rounded arcs, darkening and lightening on a whim like a river on its track to the ocean. His sketches looked like practices with cursive. His hand spouted calligraphy without any knowledge of the art at all.

It surprised Axel when he came home one day and found the blond hunched over on the kitchen floor, cross-legged in the bright kitchen fluorescents, left arm lying in his lap. There was a bowl of India ink and a towel soaked in it and it scared the redhead badly when he saw the blond dip a razorblade into a dish of rubbing alcohol, wipe it clean and put it to bloody tracks on his already wounded arm.

He panicked.

"Holy shit, Demyx! What the fuck are you doing?" He cried, falling to his knees and skidding across the tile, knocking the razor out of the younger man's hand. Demyx looked confused, shocked, and a tad indignant all at the same time.

"I'm scarring!" he snapped, "Christ, Axel! You could have fucked it up making such a fuss… and you cut yourself! Here, give me that bowl of water."

Axel complied a little confusedly, winced when the blond grabbed his hand and pried open the gash on the top of it. He took a cloth and scrubbed most of the black out of the wound.

"What… why are you doing that…" Axel bit out. It _fucking hurt_!

"Unless you want to have a black line on your hand for the rest of your life, you might want to get it out, dip-shit," Demyx muttered, trying to concentrate. "You're a lucky bastard. You didn't cut any veins."

He dropped Axel's hand and gave him a look that said he was both openly upset and that there wasn't much his lover would be able to do about it.

"Sorry…" he said, truly contrite, "I just thought—"

"—I was hurting myself, I know, I know," Demyx grumbled, "Just get me a clean razor, would you?"

Axel complied quietly, watched as the blond instantly dipped it into the dish of alcohol and drew the edge along a small purple line on his skin. He made a second cut just a little opposite, and popped the little wedge of flesh up with the edge of the razor, pulled it out. Axel winced as he did this and damn near retched when he dropped it on a paper plate covered in similar little scraps.

He picked up the cloth soaked in India ink and sponged the dark liquid into the oozing cut, dabbed the excess away with the damp cloth in the bowl of water.

Axel watched for what felt like hours as the blond continued the painstaking process until his arm was laced with bloody lines. He made one last pass with the ink and then bade Axel wrap it with gauze. On top of the gauze, he wrapped an ace-bandage and started cleaning up the mess like nothing ever happened. Though he was a little sickened by the whole thing—most of all by the blood that had gotten on the floor—he helped out.

Demyx settled on the couch to watch Axel paint, a strange look permanently written on his face no matter what expression was predominant at the time. The redhead determined it to be pain. Extreme pain.

"You okay, love?" Axel asked softly, wiping cerulean paints off of his fingers.

Demyx just shook his head, a single tear finding a way to slip down his cheek. He didn't wipe it away, though, because his other hand was busy clutching his wounded arm. Axel plopped down on the couch, caught the tear on the tip of a finger and wiped it away gently.

"Come here, boy," Axel whispered softly.

Demyx complied instantly, fell into his lover's arms. He sighed and buried his face in the crook of Axel's neck, short hair tickling the sensitive skin mercilessly.

"Why did you do that?" Axel asked quietly, reaching up to stroke the smooth skin of a golden-tanned cheek.

"It's for us… there's another one I still haven't done yet…" Demyx explained, "I want you to see it, but I also kind of want it to be a surprise."

"Well… where do you plan to do the other?"

"Other arm," Demyx explained, sniffling and lifting his head so that he could more comfortably explain. "It'll be a design like the other, but it'll be one for me…" He ran his fingers along the line of his smooth golden forearm, then looked up to his lover's bright green eyes with a small smile. "It's worth the pain in the end…"

"Can you do that?" Axel asked in confusion, cocking his head a little.

"I can write and draw with both hands," Demyx said evenly, "I used to be left-handed, but they forced me to use my right. I can work with both now."

They sat there in silence for the longest time. No need to speak.

This was a thing they'd only just learned to enjoy in this life: they trusted their hearts to speak for them. As always, it was that same simple message from Demyx, _God, I love you… I need you…_; and Axel's same reply with his most accommodating, gentle smile, _I am yours. Do with me as you see fit, love._

As always, Demyx collapsed on Axel, pulled his lover close. Axel obliged. He was feeling a bit more placid lately, and really, when your most prized and beloved worshipper is in your lap, singing like a bird with a broken wing, you, as a god, can't help but be touched by such sweet endearments.

"You're so beautiful, Dem…" he whispered, twining thin arms around the blond's torso like copper wire, "Don't go losing that innocence, alright?"

"Of course not," Demyx breathed, "Just as long as we don't bump my arm I'll be fine…"

--- ---

By now, some couples would have been worried that there was nothing holding the relationship together but the weak glue of shared sexual passions. Demyx never worried like that, though. He knew Axel wouldn't turn on his most devoted and loyal worshipper.

And besides…

"Ah _god_!" the redhead cried, bony hands clutching at Demyx's back, forehead planted tight against the curve of the blond's neck, "I… I… Fuck! Where did… you learn to… do that?"

"Memories," Demyx breathed.

When you could make someone so satisfied that they couldn't breathe… well, they didn't often just up and run. It was Demyx's turn to be god.

--- ---

Every morning like this one was a beautiful thing.

As much as Axel wanted to sit there in the silence and admire his lover, so well adorned in his sleep, delicately gilded with bright morning sunlight, he knew the kid would be in pain as soon as he woke. Over the night, the gauze on his arm had bled through and dark wetness was starting to seep through to the top layer of bandaging. The redhead gently caressed a sun-kissed—and freckling, to both of their great surprise—smooth skinned cheek, rose and padded into the kitchen quietly.

Leto got up and yawned, stretched in a very catlike manner and stood at Axel's heels loyally. Axel paused to lavish some love on the dobe. He wouldn't skimp out after that last close call.

He needed to see again soon.

Leto whimpered and woke Axel from his revelations, so the redhead opened up the cabinet and rummaged through the rows of little orange bottles until he found the one he needed.

"Codeine… that'll do it," he mumbled, twisting the cap and tapping two little squat cylindrical pills into his palm. He popped the top back on, grabbed a bottle of water and returned to the bed, placed the items on the night stand. Demyx didn't budge an inch.

Leto returned to his bed, but Zipporah came up to Axel, her soft doe-eyes reflecting her hopeful expectancy. Axel sighed and patted the bedspread. She jumped up into the bed and folded herself up against Demyx's hip, laid her head down in Axel's lap.

"Hey sweetie," he laughed, stroking her gently.

The dog simply lay there, content to be loved.

Axel sighed and closed his eyes opened his sight just like he had so many times before. He saw the wall of mirrors, stepped forward to see them. All but one were blackened, darkened so that the future they held could not be seen, and he knew these were the ones that would open one by one if he shattered this future he was about to view.

_The flame only illuminates so far._

_The moon can only see in one direction._

He was walking forward and suddenly, his vision swelled painfully. His consciousness was suddenly opened up and _joined_ with another.

"Shit!"

"Demyx?" Axel breathed.

The mirrors melted into an open basin of mercury, glowing and shifting with life and an unhampered view of the future.

_The perfect medium…_

"Axel! Axel, what the hell is going on? Snap out of it!"

Not so much joined. He couldn't see what Axel saw. His sight—and Axel marveled, there was a deep and completely untapped potential bleeding through those fingertips digging into his forearm—seemed to be welded shut from the inside.

"Axel, you're bleeding!" the blond cried in distress.

"Hold… still," Axel panted, pushing himself closer to the swimming mirror, dipping in a hand. He could feel it. It was _happening to him_ just like he was right there and it was strangely addictive, riding the twisting currents. He could see futures innumerable and only a very small few, a handful at the most, would bear them out safe. He felt the burn in his head and withdrew, fell back into consciousness, panting, writhing in Demyx's arms.

"Axel!" the kid sobbed. Even up-side down he looked a perfect wreck.

"Shit… I'm sorry…"

_You need the catalyst… sweet water catalyst._

_Fire only illuminates so far…_

_You need a mirror._

Axel got shakily to his feet, tore at his face with the back of his wrist. It was instantly coated a light crimson.

"I'm fine," he said softly, "Just… just a little shaken up…"

_How can I pull him through? If I open that door there's no going back, but we'd be so much safer… nothing could ever touch us. But it's dangerous. He's so powerful that it could kill him to unlock his power and if I limited him, it would drive him insane… I could ham-string it, but then he'd be damaged for good…_

"Axel?"

He sounded terribly scared.

The redhead shook out his mane and wiped his nose on the bottom of his shirt despite the fact that it would stain. "Sorry, love. There's codeine on the table. Your arm hurt much?"

"A little… I'll need you to help me later…"

"Don't worry about that. I'll do anything for you, but just so you know, that vaseline's going to hurt like a bitch," he said without thinking, shook his head hard, "Sorry… I'll explain in a minute."

Demyx nodded vacantly.

Axel limped off to the shower.

"Need to fuckin' talk to fuckin' Saïx before my fuckin' head explodes," he mumbled, before the shower shut him up.

--- ---

Demyx winced and turned ocean-colored eyes away while Axel kept his hand crushed on the blond's slender wrist, using the other to pour on the alcohol. Demyx literally screamed, grasping Axel's knee hard with his free hand. Axel placed the bottle aside and watched as the clear, stinging liquid ran down through the swirling lines of the Salamander's body, the thickly outlined columns of the three I's of VIII. He used a wad of sterile gauze to dab away the excess, bringing it back up with only the faintest lines of black and red.

He snatched the plastic container of vaseline and began to slather on the slick petroleum jelly. The wounds seemed to hiss with such treatment, but no blood seeped out. Demyx let out a gasp of utter agony, his face falling into a pained scowl as the nails of his free hand bit into Axel's jeans.

"Fuck!" he breathed.

"I know… just a little more," Axel mumbled, brow furrowed with pity and somewhat more with concentration. This was not how he liked to hear his lover cry out. He finished layering the last bit of stinging, oxygen starving vaseline into the scar tracks. Demyx sniffled quietly, reaching up with the cuff of his long-sleeved shirt to wipe his eyes.

Crying again, like he did so very often.

Axel wiped his hand on a towel and retrieved the plastic wrap that would go over the vaseline to waterproof it completely. He wrapped carefully, taped it at the ends with duct tape and then carefully re-wrapped it with a thick ace-bandage.

"You alright, love?"

"T-this… stays on for a week," Demyx stated simply, "No touching it, no jarring it, no removing the bandage prematurely unless it gets infected. Can't get it wet either."

"Alright," Axel said softly, massaging the blond's hand gently. He was worried, but he wouldn't push his lover to respond.

"I need… I need to sleep for a little while… just until the pain tapers off."

"Yeah."

He helped his shaky lover to his feet, carried him to the bed and watched as Demyx curled up, took a moment before he joined the blond.

"I love you," Demyx laughed between pained sobs, "You'd stay even if I told you to go away, wouldn't you?"

"I live to annoy you with my very presence, sweetie," the redhead teased, wiping the tears from the younger man's eyes.

"You don't annoy me," Demyx returned with a sweet smile, "Not all the time at least."

--- ---

The second design came slowly, much more painstakingly because his writing arm hurt so. Axel found himself finishing the last half of the whole piece, wiping the blood out of the tracks of the koi's smooth body, dabbing at the lines that made the Roman numeral IX. He found it almost disgustingly easy to clip away the skin, disturbing how strangely intimate the whole thing was.

Demyx watched detachedly, almost as if he could shunt the pain away. Really it was that over the last few days he'd gotten used to constant agony. And it really was quite constant.

Axel dabbed in the last of the ink and smiled contritely up at the stone faced blond.

"You surviving?"

Demyx nodded. He was so tired of this. He had refused the pain pills and now he was just dealing. His father would say it was one of those things that build character… well, if he hadn't brought it on himself. He was just sick of being foggy all the time.

He watched as Axel bound the wound quickly, almost expertly.

"You know we've got to get on a plane in two days. Can you survive that?"

"Maybe…" Demyx said shakily. He swallowed hard.

"Are you sure?" Axel sighed. He looked worried. Very worried.

Demyx nodded again. He couldn't trust his voice for now.

"Alright… you want to get some sleep, right?"

Another nod.

"Okay."

--- ---

He lay completely still, almost as if he were dead, when the second vaseline wrap went on. He only made a soft sound of displeasure at the alcohol, but nothing more as Axel smeared the thick translucent gunk over the sliced lines. He was able to work rather quickly for that.

"Done," he said softly, and bright blue eyes fluttered open in response. "Are you completely sure you don't want to take anything for it?"

"Just for now," Demyx replied, his voice barely a whisper, but completely unsteady, shaking.

Axel nodded softly and ran a hand through messy, cropped blond hair.

The pills worked. Demyx slept comfortably enough for that night.


	37. Rhythm

_Ahh... we'll be there soon now, kids._

_I'm suffering a bit of writer's block at the moment... This chapter brought to you by Mousewolf and her amazing skill with Marluxia. I'd be fucked if I didn't have her to make him more... edgy. The whole blood oranges thing is a bit of an inside joke, but maybe one day I'll let y'all in on it._

_Lots of frigging music in this one. There's music all over the place if you know where to look._

_I may or may not get the next chapter finished any time soon... I mean... I've got plot bunnies springing and dying so fast it's not funny, but I'll put up some old stuff I never got around to posting... it won't be beta'd or anything but well... it's good as is. You'll probably like it. Everyone will write an AU school-fic at some point in their life... well, maybe not, but I couldn't help myself. You'll have to tell me where you guys want to see that one go. They may or may not realize past lives and all that good shit. There may be some name changing in order and all that stuff..._

_Also, check out my forum and LJ, yeah? I'll keep you guys posted on my status with the latter, though I've not messed with it in a while._

_Oh and if you ever have any requests, feel free to hit me up, just as long as it has nothing to do with changing Turps... It is as it must be. Demyx says: "Stop trying to break mirrors! It won't happen. Carie-sama is as upset with herself as you are... but there may be a happy ending yet, yeah? Just poke her."_

_Axel says: "Fuck you. I'm not saying anything."_

_Ahem... anyway, here it is. Read, Enjoy, Review, Repeat!!!_

* * *

:: Rhythm ::

Axel learned something very important about his lover that brisk, chilly November morning: Demyx did not like planes at all. He was horrendously afraid of heights, but confessed he'd been afraid of a thousand other things that he'd gotten through just having Axel as his security blanket.

"So that's why you practically crawled into my ribcage over that spider?" Axel asked with a small smile, saying his final goodbyes to Leto and Zipporah. Both were heavily sedated, practically passed out in their crates. After a last caress, both men made their way to the boarding gate where Saïx was reading his book quietly. They had decided to bring him last minute since he was such a constant companion at this point… the third in their little comfortable and completely voluntary love-triangle.

"Part of it," Demyx admitted, allowing a wan smile in return. His eyes were still lucid with pain, the haze of the previous day's pain-killers long gone. "Sometimes… I just need an excuse to be close to you."

Axel grinned and slung a lanky arm around his lover's waist, careful to avoid bumping his still very tender cut forearms.

He tugged up his headphones and cranked the volume, leaned in close enough that Axel could hear too, and the redhead smile as he caught the tune of Weezer's Green album.

Their wait wasn't incredibly long. They settled next to Saïx for the next two hours, most of which Demyx slept in Axel's lap. The boarding process happened without any major hitches, since they'd secured their own row together. Demyx curled up against Axel and squished quite happily between the redhead and the passive, blue-haired Saïx. He, unable to decide, laced his fingers into one of both men's hands.

He noticed something sitting there. Saïx had a strong, reassuring grip no matter what he was doing, as though he would be a strong rock and companion, where Axel's was loose and giving; Axel would need just as much help as he would give.

Demyx smiled. He liked that.

After the initial moment of panic during takeoff—and several scoldings from Saïx to Axel about the drawn, horrified expression the redhead had affected for the entire process—Demyx found himself settled just being able to be free of the seatbelt and press himself to Axel's chest while his lover read.

And not one single person told him to look out the window… he did it on his own.

The world was strange from this height, clouds looked like a cotton-candy landscape and the sun was white and hot. He was mesmerized by the clearness of the sky at this height, the way the land beneath them turned into a patchwork quilt of browns and greens and city grids or roads and roofs.

By the time they were nearing destination, Weezer had played through, 311 was spent, and he was just starting his Sublime. His fingers worked over _Santeria_ as it played in the headphones, his lips moved to the words, and so did Axel's, the redhead's foot tapping lightly.

Axel pulled down one side of the younger man's headphones, "I saw them live."

Demyx damn near went into shock. "You _what_?"

"I said I saw Sublime live, and you're going to have to be jealous of me for the rest of your life, kiddo," Axel laughed, "I still have the ticket-stubs. I was probably thirteen or fourteen… and that would make you… what…"

Demyx counted on his fingers, laughed nervously "Er… like seven or eight maybe. But that… that's just awesome… You saw Brad Nowell!"

The announcement came, the plane landed a little roughly, and the three were quite happy to disembark in one piece… though Demyx did have his arms jostled a little too much and did end up half in tears by the time they got to the baggage claim. Axel only soothed him with soft words, a few gentle kisses when they were least conspicuous. It brought up the blond's mood ten-fold.

The rental car, the bags, the dogs, the road.

The ride home was _The First Day of My Life_ and _Lua,_ and Demyx's lips writing lyrics across Axel's pale skin in the back seat. _Of_ _Angels and Angles_ whispered by Axel with no music to accompany; just his hoarse voice, closed eyes, soft lips, warm breaths on heated skin. Restrained movements, but they were starting to get more and more demanding, bolder.

_Land Locked Blues_ and residential streets.

_Poison Oak_ and orange trees.

Heartbeats and _a Lover_ _I Don't Have to Love_.

The soft moaning of covert caresses and _One Headlight_ to illuminate.

Saïx smiled until his face hurt in the front seat and hummed along with the lovers. He was as much a part as either of them, but his job needed attending to. He was content just to pretend he was oblivious.

And the tone shifted again; Saïx humming _Hey Jude_ contentedly. Demyx picked it up and added in the lyrics with his sweet voice.

Reunion with Braig and Marluxia, but it was cut short by the pink-haired lover who insisted they rest, citing the paleness of Demyx's face, the descriptions of his voluntary injuries. And that was where the symphony returned in earnest with headphones and ipod sprawled at one end of the mattress, softly crooning a lullaby macabre. _The Shankill Butchers_ while Axel drank deep of Demyx's violently beautiful still life on the smooth gray sheets.

_Butterflies and Hurricanes_ as Demyx bit back on his cries of excruciating pleasure. _Killing in the Name_ to Axel's shudders and gasps. Cash's cover of _Personal Jesus_ to slowing heartbeats and soft panting. The _Man Comes Around_ to the careful checking of painful wounds. Drifting to sleep to the soft hum of _the Road to Mandalay._

It was a good day.

--- ---

There were sliced blood oranges at the breakfast table.

Demyx shuddered. There would be none of that for him, so he settled in the living room, watching the deep green trees sway lightly in the breeze. Zipporah lay with her head in his lap, letting him stroke her gently as she dozed in the warm sunlight leaking through the patio door.

Axel and Saïx had gone out with Xigbar and Marluxia was nowhere to be found, so the house was still and silent.

"Weren't up to the oranges? They're divine, I assure you," Marluxia said softly, appearing from behind with a towel on his hips and another on his head. In the next room, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds began to play on the radio.

"Oh, not really hungry," Demyx lied.

"You're a disgrace to liars everywhere, IX. Drop it before you hurt yourself." The ex-flora wielder purred, "Come to think of it, you were never really a good liar. Always acting, playing the fool but I could tell how smart you really were. Why did you hide it, since I never got a chance to ask you back then?"

Demyx's eyes widened a fraction, but then his face fell into a smirk.

"Can't hide anything from a snake. They're illusionists by nature," he replied evenly, "No wonder Zexion's little mind games never worked on you. So you remember, then?"

"Never forgot," the other replied just as calmly, "I can't tell you how hard it's been not to slice Axel in half."

He smiled, bright eyes laughing. "And I never thought I'd see Saïx eating from anyone's hand but the superior's. You've got a bit of a collection going. Have you found anyone else?"

Demyx nodded.

"None of them remember?" Marluxia pressed.

"Not that I know of… Vexen had his hands all over me when I got shot and there was not even a hint of recognition there," Demyx replied softly, "Same with Zexion. He's the landlady's pet but he never even noticed… Axel was banging Larxene—"

"Well, that's a given. Can't have one without the other." Marluxia grinned. "Continue."

Demyx grinned back and shook his head, "Now she's banging Luxord. Mr. Gambling-Addict-in-Denial is Axel's art dealer. And then Lexaeus and Xaldin are working as EMT's. They patched me up… oh, and we left Roxas and Naminé at home. They're the only two that remember anything so far."

"Luxord was never in denial, you know. He knew all along… though I don't know about now," Marluxia mused, "So the Key-brat's better half remembers and so does the not-so-Wicked Witch. Interesting…"

"She's not a witch…" Demyx said sternly, glaring at the pink haired man.

"Ah! Hey now! Just falling back on old memories, no harm no foul… though there is some payback that needs to be dealt," he laughed.

"Like what?"

"Axel did me wrong… I can tell he and Saïx are well aware of their pasts," he remarked, "Axel seems to get a little more neurotic around me. What's up with him? He never used to be so… twitchy."

"He…" Demyx sighed, "You're never going to believe me."

"Try me, sweetheart," Marluxia said, leaning down and scratching Zipporah behind the ears and ignoring the dog's soft warning growl. He put a slight inflection on _heart_. "I could believe anything at this point."

"Axel sees the future," Demyx said flatly, "And Saïx can look into the past… he could change it, but he doesn't try. He said that's risky."

Marluxia _mrrrmm_ed softly, chewing at a well-manicured nail thoughtfully. "You know, I just might believe that. Fire's main job is to illuminate, isn't it?"

Demyx nodded.

"Do you see?" the blond asked quietly.

"No," Marluxia replied, "I can remember nearly everything there is to know about plants, but I can't hear them anymore. Flowers were just meant to look pretty and have hidden talents, that's all. Nature is old and wise, though. There's a lot she's yet to tell them here."

"What about the moon?"

"You should know already that the moon is the eye of the mystic!" Marluxia chided, "But Demyx… you _are _aware that all of these things need a mirror aren't you?"

Demyx went blank. "…Mirror?"

"Yes," the pink-haired male stated gravely, "Their power is greatly limited without a mirror to peer through… it's a window to their real strength. They don't make much difference unless they have something that amplifies their strengths. What is a mirror made of, Demyx?"

"Metal?" Demyx said softly, "Glass and metal?"

The ex-Assassin leant forward, still smiling. "No. What was the first mirror men had, Demyx? Think."

Demyx bowed his head in thought and a long moment of silence passed before the blond sighed and matched eyes with the older pink-haired man. "Water."

"Good boy." Marluxia said warmly, clasping his hands together as though in delight. "Our elements never really leave us. I wonder if in the next life we'll be able to manifest them as strongly as we did in the last… as this worlds go, this one's almost completely void of true magic."

There was another long pause.

"Does Braig remember anything?" Demyx asked finally.

"Nope. Not a bit. He's still a mean shot, though, but you know that."

"Are you going to remind him?"

He smiled. The Graceful Assassin had never stopped smiling to the best of Demyx's knowledge, but there was an honesty to it now that was startling on those familiar features. "Never. It's best he doesn't remember. Let him live as he dictates."

Demyx nodded. He knew what the older man meant.

"Well, I have things to do. Do as you please," Marluxia announced, rising and walking into his room. He called back over his shoulder, "And don't let yourself get too down. I don't have so many pills to spare. Help yourself to the herb if need be, though, yeah? It was a strong breed, and maybe we'll smoke ourselves back to oblivion tonight, huh?"

Demyx nodded, "Sure."

He couldn't help but feel a little anxious, though. When he really thought about it, he could feel that ancient power sleeping deep in his soul, and he couldn't even begin to understand how he could ever tame something so vast.

He went to the stash and packed a pipe. He didn't want to think and this would help him forget if only just for a little while.


	38. She Wants Revenge

_Ah, still a sick child, but I have some Turps for you all... Hopefully you guys enjoy this one... once again, much thanks to Mousewolf for beta work on this chapter and giving Marluxia his lovely edge... next chapter will be a treat... Graphic as hell though... so don't throw rocks and sticks at me just yet. Love love love!_

* * *

:: She Wants Revenge ::

They've been there for a week but this is the first time Demyx has seen the little garden amongst the orange trees, the first time he'd discovered other fruits, and he seeks the god of Flora, the beseeching, hungry ocean, always needing to be filled. Marluxia only smiles.

Demyx stares at the almost translucent red orb all too eagerly. His fingers brush it momentarily and then two pleading aqua eyes catch Marluxia's. The pink haired man smiles, glancing from Demyx to Axel and then to the plant.

"Knock yourself out. Wash it off first, though," he says softly, leaning up to prune one of the orange trees in the row.

"Thanks so much!" Demyx sings, plucking the fist-sized fruit from the vine, clutching at it as though it were a lump of pure gold. He tugs at Axel's shirt sleeve and gets the redhead moving behind him, sprints down the row toward the water pump.

He skids to a stop on his knees before the tap, twists it impatiently and rinses the fruit beneath the cold water rushing out of the metal tap.

"You think it'll be good?" Axel asks, loping up at a lazy pace. "He said it was a little early for those ones to be ripe."

"A tomato," Demyx replies in an old, wise tone, "is a tomato. I eat them green on occasion…"

"Gross like that," Axel mumbles, scrunching his nose as the blond gives the smooth side a long lick. Demyx smiles.

"It's going to be awesome," he breathes. He sinks his teeth down into the supple berry skin, feeling it pop and explode with acidic salt-sweetness. He melts, moaning happily. Demyx sitting with knees folded under him, clutching the fruit in both hands; Axel can't help but think that this was how Eve must have looked when she took the first bite of the forbidden apple.

For all he knew, it could have been a tomato that she'd plucked.

"Oh it's heavenly," Demyx moans, his mouth full with juices and seeds and the crisp, firm wall. He chews it slow, swallows and sucks at the juices escaping the hole he's torn from the side, uses his fingers to catch little seeds trying to escape. Red tinted liquid stains his shirt. He sighs and nibbles at the section casing now, not so much crunching on the skin as bruising it.

Axel feels warmth in his groin, a tightening in his pants but he ignores it. It's just the fact that Demyx can make such a simple thing look sexual. He'll scratch that itch when it's more convenient for both of them.

Demyx laps at the juice on his fingers, on the smooth fire-truck red skin, red like Axel's hair, and sinks his teeth into another section impatiently, slurps the side flat and then works on the casing there, eating around the sweet core. The final section slides into his mouth whole, vanishes in two chews and a swallow, broad grin parts as the core is devoured to the little plug stem. He tosses this away and sighs contentedly.

"So good," he's smiling, sated.

"Should we ask him for more?" Axel says quietly, "I love it when you make that face."

"What face?" Demyx laughs, turning up genuinely amused aqua orbs.

"It's the same face you make when I practically fuck you to death."

Demyx smiles like a school girl and his hands fall to his knees, his legs spread prettily.

"You know I always wondered what it would be like to be a woman," he muses, running his tongue across his lips, "I could probably pull it off if I tried hard."

"You want a sex change?"

"Nah. I'd just want boobs. Classic tranny, you know?" Demyx laughs, accommodating as Axel knelt and pressed his lithe frame to the blond's.

"Aww," Axel teases, "that's no fun Demy, darling."

"Don't call me that, pyro. I might have to hurt you," Demyx whispers, taking Axel's stretched earring between his teeth, tugging lightly. He giggles softly when he pushes the rim out with his tongue, sending the steel tinkling down against the captive-ball holding it in.

"You little bastard," Axel laughs.

They retreat from sight beneath a spreading tree.

--- ---

Demyx was stoned and happy, leaning up against Axel's chest and ticking something or other off on his fingers then recording it on his little note-pad.

"What are you doing?" Axel laughed, tipping the blond's chin up so he could get a good look at those black-hole blue eyes.

"I'm writing haikus," he said quite deliberately, turning to tick off a five line on a hand.

"Read me one," Axel ordered, pulling the blond close. Demyx giggled.

"Okay… ummm…" he cleared his throat.

"_Mentos are the best_

"_They call them the fresh-maker_

"_And the chewy mint."_

The entire room filled with uproarious laughter and Demyx blushed, covered his face with his notebook, giggling like a little girl as Axel clutched him close.

"Axel," Marluxia called, his voice siren-like.

"Hmm?"

"How about we go outside?" he suggested. Demyx thought hard, for a moment, recalled the conversation in the car.

"_You know," Demyx muttered, snuggling against Saïx in the back seat as they made their trip to buy his first real piece, "Every time I think about chickens exploding, I keep seeing them pop like balloons and then a bunch of feathers go flying."_

"_Where'd that come from?" Xigbar cackled, "I mean seriously, that's so—"_

"_Xigbar," Marluxia chided, steering the car from the passenger seat, "Eye on the road, dear."_

"_Right," he laughed, taking the wheel again._

_Saïx scratched his chin thoughtfully, "Chickens aren't full of air, Demyx," he informed, his tone lucid and smooth from the pills Xigbar had given him earlier._

"_Well, duh, Stony McStonerson," Demyx teased, running a finger along the ex-berserker's jaw line. He was just as messed up. "It's just how I see it happening in my head, thassall."_

"_Water balloons maybe?" Saïx mused, grinning in that terrible dangerous way._

_Xigbar and Marluxia went suddenly very quiet._

"_Hmm?" Demyx mumbled, pressing his head to the older man's chest until he could feel a rib grating against his chin._

"_Water balloons… full of blood!" the blue haired male practically cackled, wrangling his hands deviously. Marluxia and Xigbar both broke into hysterics in the front seat as Demyx jumped back and wailed in distress._

"_Ugh!" he cried batting at the older man's face with a limp hand, "That's disgusting, Saïx!"_

Demyx felt a sinking dread pulling the bottom out of his stomach. He grabbed Axel by the arm and took a deep breath to speak.

"I have more haikus first!" he blared deliberately, "We can't go outside until I've read 'em."

Axel laughed and put a hand over Demyx's mouth.

"Alright, alright, love. No need to wake the dead," he admonished.

"'S one's for you," Demyx giggled,

"_Let's sit in the car_

"_Enthusiastically hump_

"_To the radio."_

All of them laughed wildly again, but this time, Axel pulled Demyx up into a sweet, desperate kiss. Demyx reciprocated whole-heartedly, letting the redhead trap him against the pillowing cushions, but it ends all to fast.

"Come on. Let's get out side. I really want to know what they've got in mind," Axel laughed, pulling the blond up with him. Demyx nodded meekly and followed his lover as all of them filed out the door. Axel stared up at the stars with a broad grin, eyes locked on the full moon overhead. "The stars look so close here," he laughed, pulling Demyx close as they wander over toward the irrigation canal that dumps into the lake behind the house. "Sometimes I think I could reach up and just… you know… grab one."

Demyx mumbles in the affirmative.

"Do you think…"

He pauses and turns around. Marluxia is tossing something up into the air, catching it again and he's grinning like a carved Halloween pumpkin.

"Axel!" he calls, passing mystery items to Xigbar and Saïx, "I've been waiting for this night, pyro."

"Not now!" Demyx calls back hazily, "We're havin' an important conservation… conser… conver… conversation! Yeah. Conversation."

"Number _VIII_!"

Axel froze.

"Pigs' blood for a pig, boy! Consider the debt repaid!" Marluxia cried in victory, launching the mystery object. Axel jumped back with a cry of surprise but the heavy item slammed into his chest and exploded, coating both of them in…

_Salt, sweat, iron, sugar, copper…_

"Jesus Christ!" Axel barks, "You're fucking nuts!"

Demyx draws his slicked fingers to his lips, laps at it… this is not tomato juice. It's something more refined… even more so than salt water… he makes the connection. Demyx lets out a high, strangled scream and echoes Axel as best he can manage, "Nucking futs!"

They are barraged over and over, and though Axel takes the majority of the hits, Demyx too ends up getting a few in the back and one in the face, ones he's sure Saïx threw at him. By the time they're able to get their wits about them, Marluxia is crowing his superiority.

Demyx grabs his lover by the elbow and plunges both of them neck deep into the lake, dog-paddling toward the opposite bank with Axel's arms wound death-lock tight around his hips.

"Like lemmings into the sea!" Marluxia howls delightedly.

"Dem… take me to shore!" Axel whined, "I can't feel the bottom!"

"He'll put more blood on us!" Demyx moaned pitifully.

"'M gonna drown, Dem!" Axel persisted, turning the blond by grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking it to the side. Demyx yelped in pain but followed the direction like a horse on the bit.

It wasn't long before they were hauled ashore by Xigbar, laid out coughing and panting beside a laughter-floored Saïx.

"What was that all about?" Axel hissed petulantly.

"Revenge," Marluxia replied, flavoring the word like a vintage wine. "Now, now, we'll talk about that later, my dear Axel."

"Where'd you… get all that b-b-blood?" Demyx stuttered, shivering hard against the chilly weather.

"Sometimes it's beneficial to befriend the butcher," Marluxia laughed, "Now, let's get you two dried off and set up with some good hot chocolate."

With that, the pink haired man breezed off and Saïx and Xigbar set to the task of getting Demyx and Axel put back into a state of normalcy, speaking as if nothing had ever happened. The revenge theme clicked easily in Axel's brain, and he made no plans to counter it.

--- ---

_Kechu-kechu-kechuu!_

Axel sighed and brought his handkerchief back up to his nose, stilting stiffly through the living room in nothing but his boxers with a blanket wrapped around his gaunt shoulders like a cape. In his right hand he held a rolled up newspaper.

He was making no efforts to keep quiet. He simply walked up behind Saïx and peered over the older man's shoulder. He was marking the page in his book with the note Demyx had written to them. Marluxia, Braig, and he were all out on the boat while Axel suffered at home with a particularly nasty head-cold, and Saïx made sure he had everything he needed. Axel was grateful for the gift Demyx had left in the bed.

He wound back and watched as Saïx tensed for the blow.

_WHAP!_

Saïx cowered like a bad dog.

"Get me some water, slave," Axel ordered coldly, settling on the leather couch. Saïx got up without hesitation and slinked into the kitchen.

"Yes master."

_Maybe this isn't so bad after all…_ Axel mused before he finally drifted off to sleep once more.


	39. Hallelujah

_This chapter is pretty graphic... not at all work or school safe so don't go reading this one in those places..._

_This is as graphic as I'll write too... so well... yeah._

_Hope you guys like it, yeah? grins_

* * *

:: Hallelujah ::

Demyx eats peanut butter off of a spoon in the kitchen, sitting on the counter with both dogs sitting expectantly in front of him. He kicks his legs a little and hums a tune, then draws the spoon up and sucks on it, the corners of his lips twitching in a little smile. It's good as candy. He's indulged Saïx who is sitting on the floor opposite of him, happily sucking on a generous spoonful of orange-juice concentrate.

His tongue is still purple from the grape. He hadn't liked that; too sweet.

"Want some peanut butter?" Demyx asks, offering a heavy-laden spoon. Saïx reaches out for it after stowing his concentrate on the shelf over his head. They remain utterly motionless, about six feet between them and the dogs circle like hungry sharks beneath the proffered spoon. "I don't feel like moving," Demyx informs.

"Neither do I," Saïx returns, yawning.

"Fiiiine," Demyx grumbles around his mouthful of spoon and peanut butter, slipping off of the counter and landing on the tile with a soft slap. He struts over and presses the spoon into Saïx's hand, and then helps himself to the older man's juice concentrate with his own tongue-cleaned spoon.

"Ah nefah sed oo cud haff anee," Saïx laughs around his mouthful. Demyx takes a moment to translate: _"I never said you could have any."_

"Oh well," he replies, sucking a big chunk into his mouth. He walks quietly back over to his spot and returns to the peanut butter. Saïx swallows somewhat loudly.

"What do you want to do tonight?" he asks quietly.

"What did you have in mind?" Demyx returns easily, concentrating on further fraying the bottoms of his jeans.

"Well, Axel wanted to go downtown again, and we could visit your parents for dinner or something… I dunno. I'm not the plan-maker," Saïx replied with a shrug.

Demyx leans back and giggles a little as Zipporah licks his toes. He digs out a spoonful of peanut butter and sticks it onto his fingers, offers it and as she goes to envelop his fingers, he smears it across the roof of her mouth, leaving her licking and snapping her jaws. He looks to Leto who also gazes up imploringly.

"Axel would kill me," he explains, shaking a drool and peanut-butter encrusted finger. He finally gives and holds out his hand to be cleaned by the big Doberman.

"Axel will take you out back and shoot you in typical hillbilly style if he finds out," Saïx says wisely, picking at a fingernail.

"And that's why he won't, right?" Demyx giggles. Something is telling him to play this smooth… to play this sensual, and he doesn't know why, but he goes with that gut instinct, strikes a deeply arousing pose.

"You know, darling… find out…"

Saïx pauses visibly.

"Come here, boy," Demyx breathes, spreading his legs prettily. He's been rough with Axel mere hours ago, so he knows it will hurt, but something tells him this must happen. He accommodates Saix's weight—so much greater than Axel's—allows the blue-haired male to ravage his neck, hands working up and down on Demyx's lithe body. The blond pushes his hands into the waist-band of the older man's pants, fingers tightening over his rising member.

"Demyx," Saïx hisses, "Not here."

"Oh yes here," Demyx laughs, reclaiming a hand to dip into the peanut butter jar. It's almost empty anyway. He licks his fingers daintily, then offering them to the older man. Saïx obligingly took the digits gently into his mouth, letting out a soft moan with the way Demyx was teasing with the fingers still buried in his pants. Demyx latches his mouth onto the pulse point on the older man's neck, biting, licking, nipping, teasing.

"Damn you, selkie," Saïx purrs.

"Bad puppy!" Demyx admonishes, nibbling at a collarbone. He practically screams when Saïx runs callused fingers into the soft hairs standing on end on the back of his neck.

"Like velvet," Saïx laughs, "And you're really touchy today…"

"Ah… I-I d-didn't know… know…" Demyx stutters, suddenly silenced as the older man slants his lips against the blond's. Demyx's hands claw for purchase on anything he can possibly manage to grip and Zipporah starts barking wildly, flailing all about the kitchen excitedly with Leto's high, anxious whine mixed in.

Saïx is moving desperately against the counter now, his lips messy and uncontrolled. This is as close to Berserk as Demyx knows he can get, and he knows better that it always promises an amazing ride. The blond loops his legs around the older man's waist and pushes himself against that straining body, forcing him to step back. Saïx carried him easily, slamming the blond flat on his back hard to the wall, knocking down a hanging pan. Demyx laughs, high and fluting.

"I always had bruises when we got done," he muses. He works at sliding off his shirt as Saïx pins him with his body, tugging at the waist of his jeans.

"Off," he says simply.

"Tear 'em and I'll hurt you," Demyx warns, tossing his shirt onto the floor. Saïx drops him, panting heavy and fast as Demyx writhes out of his jeans. How appropriate that he's gone commando today, and Saïx is struggling out of his shirt, Demyx takes the role of pulling open his seven-button fly. He lifts Demyx easy, clutching his thighs hard, pressing him to the wall, all alabaster skin and heaving sides.

"Wait! Wait, Saïx, you'll hurt me!" Demyx breaths, catching the ex-berserker's scarred face, catching those hazy eyes. "We need something…"

Saïx glances over to the counter, slicks his fingers in a glob of unused butter. Demyx practically chokes and it's all he can do not to laugh. He's never, ever attempted anything this… in depth.

But he has no time to explain it. He gasps and sucks in a desperate breath as Saïx, quite unannounced, finger-fucks him. He arches desperately, pressing his face into the crook of the older man's neck, biting down against the agonizing pleasure. Saïx lets out a purring sigh, finishes up with his fingers and settles the blond carefully onto him. Demyx sighs with the pain, and tears escape, but as soon as he's adjusted he's singing wonderfully. He's rarely loud like this with Axel… not that they aren't loud… it's just not like this, this singing of lovely little praise choruses and strangled curses when Axel's the one at the helm.

The redhead doesn't have the patience to torture his pet into this sort of fanatical worship.

His fingernails rake down Saïx's chest as he comes for the first time. Mentally, Saïx marks it off. He's going to break his record this time around. He holds his rhythm as Demyx struggles to straighten himself again.

"That was… ughhh, that was… amazing," he pants, already getting hard again just based on thoughts of what's to come. Saïx invades his mouth as if to say "shut up." Demyx pulls away. "They'll be home at two…"

"Still have… time," Saïx whispers, biting hard down on an earlobe. Demyx lets out a wail of something between agony and rapture. A hand finds Demyx's slick belly, smearing a path through the sticky stuff, brushing his fingers against the blond's lips. Demyx takes them willingly, working his tongue in the most suggestive way. He feels his body growing stiff, no need to hold back.

Demyx moaned long and loud, allowing Saïx to slide down to his knees. Demyx leaned heavy against the wall, moaning and trembling as Saïx licked his stomach, chest clean like a dog. Christ, Demyx was having thoughts like that again. Saïx might as well be Leto in a human's body.

"S-st-st-stop!" Demyx shudders, pushing the older man away. Saïx leans in again anyway and Demyx gets ready to push him back, "I said… ohhhh fuck!"

Oh lord, he's losing control of his legs. He's going to fall over it feels so good. He laces his fingers into Saïx's hair as the older man bobs his head obediently… he lives to serve. Give, give, give and never take. Demyx can't breathe. He can't even move, lest this rapture flee him.

"Ah! I… Ahh!"

His vision flees him momentarily and he hears Saïx choke a little, but he swallows, rises to lock lips with Demyx, and the blond thinks its odd, tasting his own seed in the other man's mouth.

Saïx pulls back abruptly, "Bedroom?"

Demyx nods, laughing a little as he's swept up like a bride. It's going to be one hell of a long day.

--- ---

"Christ, dudes!" Xigbar called excitedly, "I think I'm gonna blow a load just listenin' to 'em!"

"Get ye back from that door, Cyclops!" Marluxia mock-scolds, but smirks as he leans against the wall, too near to not be hypocritical. "I'm feeling all neglected here…"

"Shush! I'm listenin'!"

Axel stalked up quietly… it wasn't like Demyx would mind all that much anyway. And he could always blame it on all that sweet white rum. He pressed himself to the lovely man and paused just before their lips met, hovering mere millimeters away. Marluxia let out a little startled cry, but it was he who finished closing the distance, slipping a hand into Axel's thick mane.

Xigbar nearly choked when he looked up.

Marluxia brushed the door open, falling through it onto the bed with Axel on top of him, their kiss a violent clash of teeth and tongue and bite. Xigbar followed them, shedding his shirt and coat in one piece, pushing the door shut impatiently.

The redhead squirmed out of his long-sleeved shirt and pushed himself closer, tugging Marluxia's bothersome tank top over his head. The pink haired man laughed and bore his lovely, tanned chest, allowed Axel to get an eye-full before he squirmed away again. Axel made to chase but felt himself tugged down as Xigbar knocked his knees out from under him. The scarred man laughed, and Axel turned, grinned broadly. Oh it was so wonderful to see his old mentor so much younger, his skin still elastic with youth, those pale streaks just vanity, bleached and dyed to pewter.

He pressed himself on top of the scarred man, making the kiss exactly what he remembered the man liked, searing, rough and utterly dominating. Xigbar moaned and arched, scar laced chest grating against Axel's, and somehow the redhead felt he missed the old Xigbar… the one who had protected him during his first few months with the Organization… the one who continued to guide and protect even after Roxas had arrived.

"Holy crap…" the new one breathed, "Do that again."

Gods, but that was exactly like him.

"Want more, you little shit?" Axel breathed, grazing his teeth over the line of the ragged scar stretching upwards from the boy's jaw. He nipped and Xigbar sighed, nodded vigorously. "You're going to have to squirm first!"

His hands worked evilly, his mouth running up and down, tracing old scars and new cuts, setting the scarred boy to moaning wildly. Marluxia laughed somewhere in the background. Everything was starting to smell floral… like sakura blossoms all over again, the way Marluxia tastes and tasted. He appears, nothing but a pink towel wrapped around his hips.

He watched Xigbar wriggle out of his jeans with Axel's help, watched as the redhead folded the younger man's legs over his shoulders after freeing himself from his own confines.

"Do you have lube?" Axel asked, turning to Marluxia. He really hoped the Flora-God didn't retain the perchance to watch people squirm in these sorts of situations. Marluxia looked up slowly and grinned like the devil he was.

"Of course," he replied, kneeling and reaching under the bed. He placed it in Axel's waiting hand.

It wasn't long before Xigbar was wailing madly, writhing on the sheets.

"Fuck! Holy fuck!" Xigbar panted, clawing the covers. His body strained something lovely, olive skin glowing in the twilight threading through the curtains. Axel felt himself drawing near, grasped Xigbar's heated flesh, stroking in time with the wild rhythm he'd set. The scarred man let out a surprised gasp, tugging the bunches of linen he'd been clutching desperately. He came forcefully, arching gracefully beneath the redhead, slicking both of them with his release. Axel panted desperately, teeth gritted as the feeling grew on him.

"Here comes, shrimp…" Xigbar panted, suddenly constricting.

Axel let out a surprised gasp, threw back his head as his vision became nothing but white-hot searing and stars. Oh it felt so fucking good that it hurt. He froze, afraid to lose that delicious tingling, but finally slipped down against the younger man, gasping for sweet oxygen as his body recovered.

"Bravo!" Marluxia cheered, even applauding, if slightly mockingly.

Axel made an attempt to rise, found himself falling limply back to Xigbar's chest, but the scarred one didn't seem to mind… actually he was threading his fingers into Axel's hair and the redhead had to wonder if he knew what he was doing. He let out a soft moan, dragging long nails harshly across that scarred chest, relaxing to the slowing throb beneath his cheek.

"Ahh, so that's your weakness, huh?"

"Dun… touch th' hair," Axel sighed, eyes shut, fingers twitching nervously at the elastic slipping out of Xigbar's pony-tail.

That was when he felt the assault begin.

Marluxia's fingers brushed ever so gently, tenderly against his entrance and Axel bristled from head to toe.

"What are you doing?" he growled, making an attempt to squirm away, fouled up as Xigbar wrapped around him like a hungry python.

"Just relax," Marluxia ordered.

His fingers worked almost too quickly, scissoring painfully. There was no attempt to make it pleasant, and Axel recalled bitterly that that was the way it always was. He winced and shuddered when Marluxia curved a finger, however. Axel bit down hard on the rise of Xigbar's chest and the scarred man cried out and returned the favor with a good hard slap on Axel's bare back. Marluxia laughed at them.

"Do I have to separate you two?" he warned.

"Watch it, Flower-boy," Axel snapped, eyes blazing green fire, "Remember. You're banging the Flurry of Dancing Flames. You _will_ get burned if you tread too heavy."

"Oh, but of course! That's half the fun!" Marluxia laughs, sweet as rose-petals with his cornflower eyes, pulling his slick fingers back, grasping a parchment-skinned hip hard. "But, darling VII, you're a little stuck, are you not?"

"I outrank you, XI," Axel bit out as Marluxia guided himself in the most aggravatingly delicate way, "You'd do well to obey me…"

"Rank doesn't mean shit any more, darling," Marluxia chuckled, and sheathed himself fully inside the ex-pyro. Axel let out an agonized moan.

"The fuck are you two talking about?" Xigbar grumbled.

"Shut up," Axel hissed, pressing his head into the ex-gunslinger's stomach desperately. Oh god it hurt so badly. He arched his back to accommodate the powerful thrusts of the pink-haired man's hips. "Who… do you, ahh, fucking think… you are? Fucking Peter North?"

Xigbar is suddenly commanding the older man's mouth, a single gold eye glimmering hotly. He forces Axel to brace himself on his shaking arms until he's able to squirm out from under. Axel collapses with his chest to the mattress. He's getting it exactly the way he gives it to Demyx and it's almost infuriating. Axel does not like being topped like _this_. Not at all.

At least Demyx was a little more considerate… but he couldn't help but think about how _good_ it felt.

He nearly lost himself as Marluxia started up a slow but firm rhythm, hands working smooth on Axel's hips. The redhead was surprised but did not resist when Xigbar lifted him up, sandwiching him between Marluxia's smooth chest and Xigbar's scarred one. He nearly cried out when their erections clashed and Xigbar moaned softly. He slanted his mouth against Axel's, pressing past the barriers easily.

Axel battled with his tongue momentarily, and then pushed the scarred man back, glaring harshly.

"Suck… my cock," he growled between panting breaths. Xigbar hesitated. "I said… suck it. Now, kiddo."

Marluxia leaned back, panting through his mouth but still holding that unbearable slow but ungodly good pace. Xigbar's mouth enveloped the tip of Axel's cock, warm, wet and providing that oh so needed massaging… suction. Christ, Axel felt like he was going to lose it. He yanked Xigbar's hair hard, forced him down harder, shuddering as the scarred man's teeth grazed the shaft.

Xigbar pulled back choking.

"Don't fuckin' do that!" he grumbled, glaring up with one coin-bright eye.

"Be more careful, scarface," Axel hissed. "Now do it again."

Xigbar bent to the task again, creating waves of unbearable passion. Axel moaned in time with each swipe, each thrust, each caress over all too visible ribs. Marluxia let out a strangled cry, thrusting sharply, unevenly. Axel grinned like a Cheshire-kitty as he came forcefully and completely unannounced. Xigbar choked and turned to wipe his mouth out on a discarded towel, cursing low under his breath.

Marluxia cursed loudly again, releasing his seed into Axel, and the redhead gritted his teeth against the strangeness of it. Demyx had never, ever done that to him, and he was shocked at the warmth it created, but it also made him feel terribly dirty.

Marluxia pulled out and collapsed on the bed, panting deep and slow. A hand came to rest over his heart as he closed his eyes, just relaxing. Axel flopped down next to him, pressing close even though it was suffocatingly hot. Xigbar fell on Marluxia's other side, pushing the hand away impatiently and pillowing his head on the pink-haired man's chest.

"That was good," Marluxia commented absently.

"Yeah," Axel breathed, "Y'know, I could say something witty right now, but it'll probably kill the moment."

A hand slapped his shoulder, although nearly all the force behind it was worn out. "Sleep, pyro. Save your mouth for something more useful in the morning."

The ensuring retort was cut off as Xigbar curled up tighter against Marluxia's chest. "Shut the fuck up, you two. 'Nuff cryptic macho-ass shit for the night now. Goodnight already, 'kay?"

--- ---

Demyx shifted lightly against Saïx's chest, sighing softly as he did so. He was such a sweet lover. Saïx had forgotten as much.

"So… what possessed you to lock Axel out tonight?" Saïx asked evenly, massaging Demyx's scalp gently.

Demyx sighed, "I don't know… I got a bad feeling and I wanted to be with you before anything bad happens… does that make sense?"

"Too much," Saïx sighed, "Too much. But don't worry about it."

Demyx nodded and obediently went to sleep, so Saïx had plenty of time to think.

If Demyx's predictions came true, they would have to open him up. Their time was growing terribly short.

In fact, time was running out for all three of them.


End file.
